Shifting Sun
by Starcuddles
Summary: Things are changing for Bella and she can sense it. Nightly dreams about places she has never been and him, her mystery man. Who is he and what are these dreams really about. Characters 'mostly' human.
1. Midnight

The clock ticks over to midnight. 00:01. Thirty. I'm thirty! How did I end up here? The thing next to me, my husband grunts in his sleep. The baby monitor let me know my two year old is sleeping soundly, but my mind is elsewhere. For weeks it's felt like I haven't slept. Every night I'm somewhere else. Somewhere other than Tasmania. The Apple Isle. The butt to all the touring sport groups jokes. Is God that sick that he designs an island state around the female anatomy? Every young hot blooded male wants to see the map of Tassie and I'm not talking about the state. My parents moved to Victoria, Australia from Forks Washington when I was four. I even have an Australian accent. They said it was for a change of scenery but everything here looks the same. It's all too green! I moved to Tasmania a couple of years ago and have been stuck here ever since. But where am I?

I close my eyes and the green dim of the alarm clock is washed into bright sunlight, palm trees, baking sun and crashing waves. Where? Brisbane? Hawaii? Greece? Mexico? LA? People move around me on roller blades, bikes, running, walking, drinking coffee and enjoying the sun. It shouldn't be sunny, not in Tassie anyway. It's the middle of winter. Snow caps frame Mt Wellington and heavy clouds cover the rest of the southern state.

I can feel his eyes on me. I can always feel him in these dreams. I don't know him, I've never seen him but his gaze penetrates me to my core. Why is he watching me? What am I to him? What am I? I feel different from those around me; abstract. Has my craving to escape my mundane life led my mind here? I can hear music but no one else seems to notice it. I've fallen asleep with my MP3 player on again. What is it tonight? Rise Against. American angst punk and totally unsuitable for a married house wife but the music calls to me. 'I don't hate you boy, I just what to save you while there's still something left to save.' I laugh at my own dry humour as I wonder who is saving me. Him? Who is he? Where is he?

I feel something brush against my ankle. Adelaide, my cat. Queen Adelaide actually, named so because she whines; Queen Adelaide Wine, not a bad drink. She has never been in these dreams before. She looks at me with her beautiful golden eyes like she knows something I don't and walks off into the shadows of the near by shops. How could I not follow my guide? So white and fluffy and pure. She couldn't lead me to danger... could she? The music in my mind calls again. 'I don't hate you.'

My bare feet move slowly across the warm concrete. Looking at what I'm wearing and I thank God I sleep in day clothes. It's a running joke with my mothers group. Sleep in track pants and a tank top and there is no rush to get dressed in the morning. Your darling munchkin can leave you sleep deprived and chaotic but if someone calls at your door, well you'll look like crap but at least your not in your pyjamas. Tank tops and track pants seem to fit in here so I don't seem to stick out. I can't see anything except Adelaide's tail as I follow her under an arch into a dark empty building.

"Good Kitty," a voice like velvet murmurs as a pale hand strokes her back. I wait for my eyes to adjust and listen to Adelaide purr, slowly weaving around what I assume are legs.

"You're not ready," the voice tells me.

"Ready for what?" I ask searching the shadows. I want to put a face to that voice and the feeling pulsing through my body just from his proximity.

His hand reaches from behind me and strokes my face. "The truth." The voice is so close. How did he there so fast? Blood rushes to my cheek to greet his touch and my bones turn to jelly. The truth? My mind is scrambled. What truth? What is he talking about?

"I... don't... understand" I stammer.

His cool breath brushes my face as he murmurs again, "You're not ready. You will know in time."

A breeze flows across my body and I hear a distant chuckle as I realise I'm alone in the dark.

My eyes flash open as Renesmee calls for me through the monitor. 5:23 am. I stumble to her room to settle her as my body tries to catch up with my mind. A gentle touch and soothing voice is all it takes to get my little princess back into her land of dreams. Something Mike would never think of. He is always just pissed to be woken up. I don't think he ever wanted kids and in all honesty, neither did I. Well, not with him anyway. This is what happens when you have a little too much to drink and let your guard down. One time in God knows how long and nine months later, baby. Re' is the one good thing to come out of this marriage, the one thing I wouldn't change in this messed up life of mine. I hope her dreams tonight are better than mine.

Adelaide meows at me as I close the bedroom door. Again she has that all knowing look. I pick her up to give her a soothing cuddle. She is a bit of a runt but she has the most beautiful face. I notice there are slight tired lines around her eyes. I didn't think cats could get bags under their eyes. As I stroke her soft fur his voice whispers in my ear, "You're not ready." Adelaide scratches my arm when I drop her and spin around. I'm alone. But it was like he was right there; right beside me in the hallway. I'm loosing my mind.

I try to get back to sleep but I'm too jittery. Things are changing and I can sense it. My mind is working overtime filled with questions. So many questions but no answers. But it's all just dreams right? Dreams about beaches and sunny skies and him. This perfect man in my mind that I can't quite see. I touch my cheek remembering his caress and it feels so real. My skin still feels warm.

I leave my bedroom and Mike, the grunting monster and curl myself into a ball on the couch with my MP3 player. I want to see him again; I want to know my mystery man. I want to feel his touch. I feel like an addict who has just had the first hit and I crave more. The birds begin twittering outside as I close my eyes and Rise Against fills my right ear. '1000 miles away with nothing left to say.'

Goose bumps spread across my body as a sharp wind blows ice at me like knives. I struggle to see through the snow, searching for shelter and some recognition of where I am. I notice the left side of my body is soaked as I uncurl from the snow mound I'm laying on. Now I wish I wasn't wearing a tank top! I stumble blindly to the only building I can see. It's not until I'm almost at the double doors that I realise I'm heading for the observatory on the top of Mt Wellington. Mt Wellington, 30km from my house. The rising sun peaks through clouds above the storm as I yank the doors open and rush into my shelter. There he is.

He is standing on the platform in the middle of the large circular room looking out towards Hobart. Huge glass walls frame every view of the surrounding suburbs letting the morning sun light the room through the falling snow. Along each panel there are descriptions of Hobart's history, animals, flora and fauna, and intriguing tales through time. I remember the story of the unofficial first woman to climb Mt Wellington; she was mourning the death of her lover and the pain of her loss drove her to scale the great height of the mountain alone to look over the beauty of the land and weep. As I stare at the figure in front of me his beauty almost brings a tear to my eye. Perfect in every way. A ray of sunlight frames his exquisite body with a rainbow through the falling snow, yet it leaves his face in the shadows as he turns away from the windows towards me. He wears dark jeans slung low on his hips with a silver belt buckle of a symbol I don't recognise. His navy blue knitted V-neck sweater clings to his body in a way that is distracting, barley hiding the soft lines of his muscles. His hair is glistening caramel and a little too long to be neat but it has that carefree style that normal people spend hours trying to achieve. I want to see his face.

"Who are you?" I blurt out. My body is shaking and my teeth are chattering but I don't care. He is here, so close to me, maybe five meters and all I have to do is keep walking forward.

"Impressive." I can tell by his tone that he is smirking. I wrap my arms defensively around my body trying to hide all the things the cold accentuates.

As he moves forward down the steps towards me his velvet voice fills the room.

"I may have been wrong. Maybe you are ready." I can see the glint of his teeth in the sun as he smiles.

"I don't understand," I whisper. I want to move towards him but my feet feel frozen to the ground. Actually they could be.

"There seems to be a lot you don't understand," he says taking another step down towards me. His very presence seems to be warming the air around me.

"How did you get here?" he asks tilting his head to the side like he is asking a child a very simple question.

"How did you get here?!" I demand. I will not be treated like a child.

"The same way you did" he shrugs innocently.

"I don't understand," I whisper again. He is so close now I can almost touch him. I feel a pull like gravity towards him.

"Bella," my name sounds so exquisite as he says it, "There is so much you need to know." His face is lit by sunlight as he takes the final step to me. His skin is so pale yet I can see the imperfections that make it even more beautiful. He has a small x shaped scar above his left eye and a much larger line running just above his jaw to the right corner of his mouth and it accentuates the pink flush of his perfectly formed lips. I feel the urge to run my finger tips along this soft pink line. He has the appearance of youth, but his features carry the signs of age. The line of his jaw and cheeks remind me of the rugged men you see in commercials for razor blades, though they are not so square to appear aggressive and his eyes are such a dark green they're almost black. Looking into them feels like staring into a bottomless well of knowledge. I can't look away.

"Bella? Where are you?" Mike's harsh voice breaks through the warmth of the observatory.

"Bella!" Mike shouts again.

My MP3 player falls to the ground with a crash as I sit up on the couch. A dream?

"What do you want Mike?" I shout a little too loud. Opps, now I've done it.

"Where were you?" he demands stomping into the lounge room.

"I was right here," I sigh shaking my head. It was such a good dream.

"No you weren't!" He's shouting again. "I was just in here and I couldn't find you."

"Well, maybe you were doing a mans look." I answer pulling myself off the couch. I know it's wrong to antagonise Mike, but right now I don't really care.

"What have you been doing? You're all wet," he notes as his eyes flow over my soaking clothes.

"I, er, must have knocked my drink over when I fell asleep." That sounds believable doesn't it? Why am I wet?

"Humph! Where is my suit? I've got a job today." he says turning out of the room.

I follow along behind him and into the bedroom, pulling his suit out from its normal spot in the wardrobe. How can he not know where it is? It's always in the same place. I guess I do too much for him. I almost feel like I have two children instead of one.

"Can you make something to eat?" he calls over his shoulder as I leave him to get dressed. Yep, definitely two children.

Mike is a bit part actor. He gets enough work to pay most of the bills but not enough to make him really recognisable. He seems to think much more of himself and he could have been so much more, but that was a long time ago. I know he is unfaithful and I don't care. I'm sure the young things he picks up only go with him because he was that guy in that thing they saw and I don't think it happens that often. I'm not one of them anymore, a dumb nineteen year old in love with a rising star. I'm simply biding my time until I can get enough money in my secret stash to escape with Renesmee.

I leave Mikes food on the kitchen counter and sneak off into the bathroom. The less time I have to spend with him the better. I put my wet clothes in the laundry basket and climb into the shower. Steam fills the room and my body begins to relax. I hadn't realised how cold I was. As the calming water flows over me my mind refuses to slow. Now I have even more questions. If I am dreaming why is my clothing wet? Did I have a drink I knocked over? I can't remember having one but this night has been so strange maybe I just forgot. But what about him? He said I wasn't ready but didn't tell me what I'm supposed to be ready for. Why was Adelaide there, where ever there was. And his voice with its deep romantic tone, his touch cooler than normal but somehow it warms me, and the pull I feel towards him. Could I make up those things on my own?

I try to remember the other dreams over the past month and nothing seems to fit together. It's always sun and beaches and everyday life somewhere else in the world. Well, except for that last one. It could be the same place, but its nowhere I've ever been and I know I'm never in exactly the same spot. I remember seeing shops like last night once or twice before and there was a huge pier as well. Another time I remember sitting for what felt like hours watching game after game of basketball. The way they played, joking but serious at the same time and their moves made me want to cheer. I think I was on a Ferris Wheel one time. I can see the beach and people go by my again and again as I go around. It feels like a carnival of some kind. Other random images flash through my mind. There is a lady walking seven dogs wearing a bright orange bum bag, a man pushing a coffee cart along the foreshore, a father teaching his son to ride a bike, a homeless man with his shopping trolley and a young couple giggling and making a real mess of their ice-creams. As I search harder and harder I notice the lady with the dogs in the background over and over again, always with the orange bum bag but in different places at different times. I think I'll call her Bernice, Bernice with the bum bag. It must be the same place if I see her all the time. How do I find this place because I have just described half the beaches in the world? As the water begins to run cold I realise I'm not going to get any answers on my own.

Mike is gone when I emerge from the bathroom and I sit on the edge of the bed still lost in my thoughts. I notice my reflection in the mirror and realise how much this life has gotten to me. My shoulders are hunched and my body curves into itself. My balled up frame makes me look like a child half my age yet the brown eyes that stare back at me are timeless with pain and regret. The dark shadows under my eyes bare witness to my weeks of restless nights and my skin seems to hang from my form. I stand up to look at myself properly. I am not a beautiful woman, far from it I believe but I know that I once had something, once I was attractive to others. I used to be thin, tiny even but motherhood and this life have changed all that. I'm not fat, I am a real woman, with a real woman's' shape. I take comfort in the knowledge that I read somewhere that all men's most desirable woman, Marylyn Monroe was a size sixteen. I am an oddly shaped size fourteen. I have a butt and thighs that have to be coaxed into tight jeans and real breasts that would make Posh Spice jealous, but I seem to have lost my lustre. My light brown hair hangs limply down my back to my shoulder blades where it once used to have body and a soft curl. Even my skin appears pale and lifeless. How have I become this being?

Renesmee and I spend the day with my mums group. It feels strange to do something so normal after last night. The cloud cover is light and the sun actually makes an appearance from time to time so we head to the local park. The kids play as we sit around and prattle on about everyday things. Two of the mums are expecting their second kids and I force enthusiasm into my voice as we discuss the pros and cons of labour. Caesarean – too posh to push verses natural and a hell of a lot of pain. Doctors don't seem to have discovered a middle ground there. It's either dope you up with a lot of drugs and cut the thing out or leave you on your own and hope for the best.

My labour with Re was horrible. I was all alone, Mike was on a job at the other end of the state and dad couldn't get down in time. I don't think I've ever felt so alone in my life. I remember thinking 'I can't do this', not that there was anything I could really do about it at that point in time. I had made up my mind that I didn't want an epidural and I stuck firm to that decision. I guess I just closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. I know it sounds horrible and uncaring but it's the truth and the result of those long excruciating hours is the beautiful girl I watch now chasing the boys around the monkey bars. There was a kid's play area on the beach too, with a green and yellow slide. The father is sitting on a park bench with the bikes watching his son go down the slide. Maybe they have given up riding for now. I can't seem to keep my thoughts in the present with my body. My voice sounds so fake whenever I speak but there are enough distractions from the kids that the other mums don't really seem to notice.

Well, occasionally Angela notices but she is polite enough not to say anything. I'm closest to her and she knows about Mike and my plans there. She jokes with me that I can't leave because who would be the easy going one of the group if I'm gone. And Re is the only girl out of the four babies. We have her paired off with Angela's boy already. The easy going one; that's how I'm seen and I guess who I am. I don't usually get too worked up about things. Just take it as it comes and see where it leads you. I'm always willing to help out, but never comfortable enough to ask for help. I've had to do things almost on my own for a long time now, so it's just what I'm used to.

"You okay hon?" Angela asks as we get the kids into the cars to leave.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I lie. "It was just a long night." I hope my weary smile is convincing.

"We all know how that is," she says, but I know she see though me. "Call me if you need anything," she adds with a smile as she gets into her car.

I wave them all off and wonder what any of them would say if I told them what was on my mind. Straight jacket please! I'm still giggling at myself as I climb into the car.

"What's so funny mummy?" Renesmee asks through a yawn.

"Just that you're awake still," I answer looking at her tired eyes in the rear view mirror.

"I not sleepy!" she states but her eyes begin to flutter as I pull out of the parking lot. It's less than a ten minute drive home, but she is sleeping soundly as I carry her from the car.

I amble around doing bits and pieces of housework as Renesmee sleeps trying to decipher everything that has happened. I know that these dreams must be something more, but what I don't know. I keep going to the phone to call Angela but I don't know what I would say to her. I wish my mum was still around. Finally I settle myself by sneaking another look into Re's room. Her bronze curls frame her cherub face and there is a tiny smile on her full pink lips as she sleeps.

You truly can not know love until you are a parent. I know this is said so many times but the feeling is all consuming and, at times overwhelming. As I hear the front door slam it reminds me of the polar opposites of my emotions. Mike is home and the love I was feeling for my child is suddenly washed away by the repulsion I feel towards her farther. I close her door quietly and head back to the kitchen. He will be wanting his dinner.

I smell the alcohol before I feel his hands wrap around my waist and he starts kissing my neck.

"Common Mike. Let me finish dinner." I say shrugging him off my shoulder. How can he want this?

"You never play nice anymore," he murmurs as his hand slides under my T-shirt.

"Mike. Please. Don't." I don't want this. I turn to face him, gently pushing him away. He keeps coming at me like this is some kind of game. I pull my arms up over my chest as a barrier as he pushes me against the kitchen counter. I can feel his hands all over me and I smell the bourbon on his breath as he tries to kiss me. I feel like I'm pushing against a brick wall. Mike is twice my size and I know it's a useless battle so I give in a little and kiss him half heartedly. Maybe, hopefully this will be enough tonight. He pulls me into his firm embrace and kisses me again and again. He hasn't noticed my arms still between us. I feel the way his body is moving against mine and I know that he wants more.

"You'll wake Re," I say trying to distract him; he hates it when I shorten her name. His hands find the belt on my jeans and he begins to undo it. I try to stop him. He's smiling! His lips press onto mine with too much force and he tries to push my pants down. I turn my face away from him, gasping for air. He unbuttons his trousers and comes at me again, lifting me onto the counter. I begin really fighting, locking my legs together, leaning as far away from him as I can and pushing with all my strength against his chest. Maybe he's so drunk that he doesn't notice, but he keeps grinning his stupid grin, trying to find a way through my defences. He has never pushed this far before and I'm beginning to feel genuinely afraid. I struggle harder, trying to kick at him with my legs and he fights back just as hard. His arms are locked around my ribs pinning my arms to my side and a dark chuckle escapes from his lips as he bites my chest. His aggression begins to bubble to the surface as he releases me only to pull at my T-shirt, ripping at along the seam and grabbing my legs and yanking me towards him.

"Mike no!" I shout pushing him away.

All I see is the anger flash in his eyes, but I feel his fist hit my face. So quickly I don't realise I've done it, I am standing in front of him, and the carving knife is in my hand held at his groin.

"If you ever do that to me again," I snarl, "you will be auditioning for female roles!" and I push the knife a little harder to emphasise my point.

The shock on his face is something I've never seen before but I really like the fact that I've caused it. I try to hide the smile breaking across my lips as he backs away from me doing his pants up moving to the fridge to retrieve a beer. The knife in my hand shakes as the adrenalin pulses through my veins. What have I done?

Mike retreats to the lounge room with a wary look over his shoulder as I finish making dinner. I grip the kitchen counter for support as the shock of the situation suddenly overcomes me. What the hell just happened? How did I get the knife so fast? What did I just do? Questions. It seems to be the day for them. This is one hell of a way to spend your thirtieth birthday.


	2. Santa Monica

Santa Monica

I sleep on the couch tonight. I think Mike is worried I'm going to murder him in his sleep. The very thought of it makes me giggle. I'm not a violent person in any way but that doesn't explain what happened earlier. I guess I have to put it down to the confrontation and adrenalin. After all, it's what anyone would do in that situation.

I try to relax so I can sleep but I know that I don't want sleep. I want to find him again. If only I had a name he and this entire situation would all seem real to me. But it can't be real and I am loosing my mind.

I start my MP3 and put Breathe by Sia on repeat. I hear her quiet breath as the song begins gently and find myself taking a breath with her. 'Help I have done it again. I have been here many times before,' her voice purrs in my ears. The song seems to be speaking to me. I know my actions today have gotten me into a lot of trouble with Mike again. I have no idea what I was thinking, or if I was thinking at all. But what was I supposed to do? I will never let a man force himself on me again, husband or not. I can feel my body tense as images from the kitchen flash onto my eyelids. I try to push them aside and think pleasant thoughts. Pleasant thoughts; tousled caramel hair, dark piercing eyes, soft pink lips, anger flashing across Mikes face, the fist coming at me in slow motion. Dammit! I was content for just a few seconds.

'Breathe me,' Sia calls in my ears. Inspired by the song, I try a breathing exercise, relaxing each part of my body one by one. Starting with my toes, breath in, breath out, my feet, breath in, breath out, my ankles, slow deep breaths. My calves next, followed by my knees and my thighs and my hips. As I concentrate on each part it feels like I am taking away all the stress and pushing that part to the side. It's almost like I've been split in two in a very refreshing way. I wonder if I opened my eyes if half of my body would be lying next to me. Keep breathing. Concentrate.

Mikes heavy footsteps in the kitchen wake me in the morning. I feel revived and I've slept through the entire night without dreams. The thought makes me sad. The dreams started off small weeks ago, just flashes of random things and got bigger as the time went on. The last few days they have been longer and more detailed, like I have been spending hours in these places rather than minutes. Why didn't I dream last night? I still feel the craving to see my mystery man.

Mike and I play a dance this morning, avoiding each other but both trying to lead. I know that his job yesterday will flow through to today, hopefully without the same outcome, but he will be out of the house for most of the day.

"How did you sleep?" he asks me. I wonder what he is really thinking. 'So honey, did you think about attacking me in your sleep? What does Ms Lorena Bobbitt have on you?' I can't help but smile even though it hurts my cheek.

"I slept well. Can I get you anything?" another serving of the carving knife, I think to myself.

"Um, no. I'm fine," he answers too quickly. I wonder if he can read my thoughts.

Renesmee has a day in childcare today so I leave Mike to his business while I get her ready. I try to hide the bruise on my cheek from her with my hair but she keeps staring at my face. I don't want Re to bare witness to any of this. I need to protect my baby. The carer is only two blocks away so we walk, singing the whole way. I know I'm trying a little too hard to distract her, and maybe me, but it's easier than explanations or lies. She may only be two, but I know she know more than I realise. I leave her with a big hug and kiss and the promise that I will be back before she knows it. Usually she is happy to run and play with the other children, but today it takes a little coaxing to get her to leave my side. I give her the biggest smile I can manage ignoring the pain shooting up my face and close the door behind me.

Walking home my mind is made up. Renesmee and I have to get out of here fast. I know from experience that last night with Mike was just the beginning and I'm not sure how long I can hold him off before he really hurts me or worse, Re. When I arrive home Mike is still there so I wait for him to sulk out of the house before turning on the computer. Mike is so computer illiterate that he hasn't noticed the two users set up. I log onto my page and set to work. I check my bank account with the secret stash. The money I have won't get us far, but I'm only aiming for the mainland, my real home. I guess once I'm there I have family and some friend I can count on for a bit until we get ourselves sorted. Flights are so expensive now that I have to pay for Renesmee but it's still the cheapest way. Flying means we can only take the bare minimum but I'm sure we can make do. Go the trackies and tank tops! As I move the mouse across the screen searching for the cheapest flights I begin thinking about the beach again. I wonder if I know enough about this place to find it on a map. Where do I start? I search my mind again for a street sign or land Mike that would pin point it for me.

I jump as Adelaide pounces off the bookshelf next to me, knocking a few books down. She gives me a sly look over her shoulder as she saunters out of the room. What is it with that cat? The book on top of the fallen pile catches my eye. It's landed open to a picture of a large boardwalk/pier filled with tourists. I slide off my chair and crawl across the floor to the book to get a better look. In the background behind sparsely spaced palm trees I can see a row of novelty and souvenir shops. On the very end of this row is the empty building I followed Adelaide into two nights ago, only it's not empty in this picture. Bright colours and crazy signage shows it's a games arcade. 'Santa Monica Pier, Summer, 1994' is the caption under picture. I turn the book over to its cover, checking the title. "1000 places in the world you must see.'

I casually flip through the pages, wondering where the book came from until I notice a picture of some of my friends stuck on an article and then I remember. This is a hand me down present that makes the rounds through my friends every couple of years. If you go to one of these places while it's in your possession you have to add a message and a photo. If, like me, you never go anywhere, then you get to add a joking derogative remark about those with the time and money to travel. Slowly over the past ten years we have been filling the pages and the margins with our exploits, past and present partners, bad fashion and a lot of wonderful memories. I got the book back two years ago for Christmas and had completely forgotten about it. I turn to the page on Santa Monica again. So this is where I'm being taken. I trace my fingers around the trees and the shops almost as if I can feel the connection to this place. I move back to the computer and type 'Santa Monica Pier' into Google Earth. My fingers drum impatiently on the desk as I wait for the page to load.

When the image finally appears it's not quite what I expected. There appears to be a lot more concrete than I remember and the pier itself has a few businesses at the entrance that I seem to have completely missed. There is a long walkway on either side that I think I recognise from one of my strolls. It is called Ocean Front Walk, creative name I think to myself sarcastically. I can't get a really good look at any of it though. Is this the right place? I can see the Ferris Wheel over the top of the buildings, but there are no images from the other end of the pier. All the places that I think I have been aren't anywhere on the map, not that I really know where I'm looking. I guess that is what happens when you walk where cars can't go, Google Earth can't film it.

I search the internet for other images of Santa Monica but they are all similar shots from similar angles. Everything looks like it's aimed at tourists who, unlike me, don't want to see the mundane everyday life of the area. It's all bikini clad women and smiling happy families, or classy hotels with beautiful pools filled with clear blue water that I know I will never afford to swim in. The excitement I was feeling is beginning to wain. Am I putting too much faith in a picture from an old book and my sneaky little kitten? There has to be something.

Frustrated I push away from the computer and head into the kitchen. Although I know I don't want anything and the answers I need aren't in here, I stand at the fridge looking at its contents for at least ten minutes. Why do people always think that the fridge holds the answer? How many times have you found yourself staring into the white box of food looking for something that you already know isn't there? Begrudgingly I take a carrot out of the crisper, closing the door as I head back to the computer. I chomp away violently, still trying to think of ways to get my answers.

I drum the keys to wake the computer up as I sit down again. Scanning the page I suddenly realise where I need to look. YouTube! Where else in the world can you find videos on everything from the comfort of your own home? Adrenalin pumps through my body again as I excitedly type YouTube, Santa Monica Pier into my search engine.

How much Miley Cyrus can there be related to Santa Monica? There are pages and pages of it. Miley Cyrus talking to some boy sitting on a bench, wow stimulating. Miley Cyrus being carried through a crowd singing a song no one else can hear in a skirt so short that it's likely to be more provocative than her Vanity Fair photo shoot. Miley Cyrus on stage with a rock band that looks too heavy for her style of music, but her hair is blonde in this one so I guess that means it Hannah Montana. I'm ashamed to say that I know the difference between the two and I once knew the dance moves that went with 'Achy Breaky Heart'.

All the other pages seem to be based around the carnival or whatever it is. There are amazing videos of light and music displays centred around the Ferris Wheel and lots bands playing gigs on a stage which may be a permanent feature. I don't remember the Ferris Wheel being so big but I don't have a clear recollection of my time there either, it was weeks ago.

Over an hour I sit here watching pointless video after pointless video. I wonder if this is a sign. I have been taking everything as a sign lately so maybe I'm supposed to go to the carnival, but it just doesn't feel right. Maybe the fact that it is all so pointless means that I have lost my mind and this is just a waste of my time. No I don't believe that. I know there is more to this and I'm going to find out what it is.

I continue to watch the videos and pictures for the rest of the morning, examining everything in minute detail. I need to have as much information about this place as I can force into my weary mind. There is something about this location that feels right even if I can't find it in any of this. When the images begin to flash past my eyes without the slightest bit of recognition on my part I know I've had enough and I turn the computer off.

As I finish the housework from yesterday I begin formatting a plan in my mind. Tonight I will try to find him, the beautiful mystery man of my dreams. Hopefully he will be able to give me some answers. Then tomorrow I will call dad and let him know that Re and I are coming over for a visit. As soon as I know when Mike is working again I will book the tickets so we can sneak out unnoticed. I pull down one large and one small suitcase from the top of the wardrobe. I don't know how much time I will have when Renesmee and I make our escape so I begin packing our bags now.

I can't believe I am actually doing this. I'm really going to leave him. I'm really getting out of here with Renesmee. I can feel the small smile spread across my lips. I have to think ahead so I pack for all occasions, all weather conditions, after all Melbourne does have four seasons in one day. I find myself humming as I fold tracksuits and jeans into piles within the bags. As I wonder the house looking for things that I may need, I notice the travel book still lying on the floor in the lounge room. I pick it up and flick through the pages again and then throw it into the suitcase. 'Ok Bella, remember everything' I think to myself as images of Santa Monica flash through the back of my mind.

When I hear Mike's car pull up in the driveway I quickly stash the suitcases under the bed and pretend to be tidying the room. If he doesn't know where his suit hangs after all these years than I doubt he will notice the large number of items missing from around the house either.

"Hey," he calls from the front door.

"I'm in the bedroom Mike," I reply. I notice how relaxed my voice sounds. After all that happened yesterday, shouldn't I be mad or scared of him? It's right now that I realise that he has no power over me. I'm leaving him and there is nothing he can do about it. I am the one in the position of power now.

"What you up to?" he asks quietly from the bedroom doorway.

I turn to smile lightly at him as I say, "Just tidying up a little. Do you think you can get Re while I get dinner ready?"

"Yeah, sure. Do you need anything else while I'm out?"

"No, I'm fine thanks," I answer sweetly.

This is not 'normal' Mike. Picking up Renesmee from childcare is a horrible chore for him and I think he has only done it three times. Asking if I need anything while he is out is almost unheard of. I wonder if he really is scared of me now. I guess I did hold a carving knife to his testacies so that has got to put a bit of fear into a man. Again today, I find myself smiling.


	3. Searching

Searching.

As I ready for bed trying to remember the picture in the book and the images from the computer, I press play on my MP3 turning the volume down slightly. It's Kings of Leon, Use Somebody tonight. I thought it would be appropriate. I could really use somebody. I try to see each tree and the stores and the breaks in the concrete and weld them to my memory so I know that when my eyes close that is where I will be. I know this is what I need to do to find the answers that are evading me. Slow deep breaths. Mike shifts his weight and moves further away from me on the bed. 'I don't worry.' I think to him. 'Soon I will be farther away then you could ever have imagined.' My bedside clock ticks over to 11:17 and I close my eyes.

The sun is blinding as I hold my position waiting for my eyes to adjust again. It's the beautiful sunny foreshore of the photo in the book, changed slightly with time but something else is missing, I can't feel him. His gaze is always the first thing I feel but now, nothing. He can't leave me now! Not when I need him so much. My heart beat accelerates with the panic of my loneliness in this crowded foreign place. As I try to focus my mind and steady my heart I realise I've actually done it. I'm here and I'm ninety nine percent sure I'm not dreaming. In the back of my mind I can still here Mike's snores and the static from the baby monitor, but I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and the grit of the concrete under my bare feet. I close my eyes and take a slow deep breath, filling my lungs with the air that tastes so different. This has to be real.

Now I have a slight problem. I never anticipated that he wouldn't be here waiting for me the way he always is. I have no idea how I'm supposed to find him. How do you ask a stranger if they have seen someone with pale skin and black hair who makes you melt at the though of him? The very thought of him; the blood begins to flash though my body and my heart races again and a soft sigh escapes my lips. 'Focus Bella! Jesus,' I think to myself. 'What is with this lust?'

The only thing I can do is retrace the dreams that I can remember and hopefully they will lead me to him, or at least some sign of him. I don't know how much time I have left so I begin running. First to the deserted arcade. The shops around it are teeming with life leaving the feeling of sadness about this abandoned building in their mists. I hurry under the arch I followed Adelaide through two nights ago and search around all the hidden corners, occasionally running into walls, broken furniture and support beams in the darkness but I can't sense or find him. I stop in the middle of the ruined room and try to remember his touch, hoping this feeling of physical contact would bring me closer to him. Nothing.

I head into the white sunlight again and run towards the basketball courts. My feet seem to know the direction I should be heading even if my mind hasn't caught up yet. Sweat flows across my skin as I stumble onwards, searching every face that passes me. I get the occasional suspicious look but never his piercing gaze. Where is he? Three games are in progress as I approach the courts. Every player is tanned and beautiful in their own way, but there is not the flash of perfect pale skin I crave to see. Laughter and cat calls fill the air, joined by the occasional cheer from the watching hordes. He is not here and I need to keep moving.

The hot concrete burns my feet as I rush towards the pier next. I pass the businesses I saw on Google Earth, two restaurants framing the entrance to the pier. How did I miss them before? There are so many people here but none of them are him. I wonder what day of the week it is. Is there some kind of event going on to make it so busy? Relief spreads across the soles of my feet as I move onto the cool woodwork. There are stalls lining either side of the pier filled with games, toys, clothing, fruit and vegies, fried food, fairy floss and everything else you could possibly imagine. There are a lot of families moving through the crowd with their arms full of spoils from their day. I wonder how long it will be until I can have such a normal day out the Renesmee.

There are too many people for me to keep running so I bump slowly through the crowd looking for anything that may help me. I see the Ferris Wheel to my left surrounded by a carnival set up, but again I feel no pull in that direction. I continue towards the sea. At the end of the pier I see Bernice with the dogs walking by. Seven again with the ever present bright orange bum bag so I know I must be in the right place. I wonder if I should talk to her, if she would know anything that could be useful. I begin to move towards her going through different opening comments in my mind. Suddenly the dogs turn towards me and begin to snarl. She is taken by surprise and pulls against the cluster of leads trying to control the pack. I stop dead in my tracks, looking around for the cause of the dog's behaviour. It takes me a few seconds to realise they are turning on me. As I back slowly away they begin to pull Bernice towards me. She is fighting hard to regain her power over them and while she is distracted I run for the crowd. Several people protest as I charge through the tightly packed groups but I don't stop until I think I am far enough away to look back at Bernice and her dogs. I shouldn't have stopped. A small dark coloured dog has gotten free and it easily makes it way through the jungle of legs to me, sinking its teeth into my ankle. I scream as the pain of the bite reaches my senses.

"What's wrong?" Mikes startled voice calls. I'm in my bed, cradling my bleeding ankle in my hands.

"Cramp," I hiss through gritted teeth. "Go back to sleep. I need to go stretch it out." I say hoping out of bed. I limp to the bathroom trying not to get blood on the carpet. I hang my leg over the ledge of the bath, running cool water over the wound on the back of my foot. As the water begins to run clear I can easily see the imprint of the dog's teeth in my skin. I dry and dress the wound going over what has just happened.

I was there, in Santa Monica, the place of these dreams, for better use of the word. And now I have an injury to prove it. These things are real, but it feels like I am in two places at once when I'm there. How else can I explain hearing Mike's snores while I'm walking the sunny foreshore hundreds of thousand miles away? But I must really be there in some sense; otherwise there is no explanation for my ankle. And what was wrong with the dogs? There was no reason for them to turn on me like that, and so violently. Am I ever going to work this out? I take a couple of Panadol and limp back to bed. I don't want to dream anymore tonight, I don't think I could handle the pain or the disappointment. I lay in the bed fighting sleep. Maybe if I'm too exhausted I won't dream. I struggle with the flutter of my eyelids as long as I can and for once Mike's snores are comforting in such close proximity.

* * *

**A/N**

**I hope you are getting interested. The pace picks up soon, I promise. Reviews make my night. Thanks**


	4. What a strange cat

When Re calls for me in the morning Mike has already gone. She is standing in her cot with her arms stretched out towards me when I walk in. I lift her up, relishing her tiny hug when she wraps her arms around my neck. Her giggles turn into little squeals as I blow a raspberry on her neck. Her all-seeing eyes spot the bandage on my ankle within seconds of me putting her on the ground. She wraps her arms around my leg, giving me another cuddle. She knows just what to do to make me feel better.

Due to my ankle Re and I play around the house today. I try to remember everything I have packed in our suitcases, limping around the house every now and then checking cupboards and draws for anything else we may need. Renesmee watches me suspiciously and seems to be a slightly withdrawn. I can only reassure her with hugs and kisses. Because Mike left before I had a chance to ask him about his future work I can't book our tickets yet. I have decided to wait until I have everything planned before I call dad, just in case something goes wrong. There is no need for him to worry as well.

Because she seems so fragile, I crawl into bed with Renesmee for her afternoon nap. She snuggles her body into mine as I wrap my arms around her. She seems to feel safer when I am at her side today and I am more than happy to oblige. I haven't realised how tired I am, but it is moments after her breathing steadies into peaceful slumber that I fall asleep as well.

The afternoon and evening past quickly and before I know it I am crawling into bed with Mike again. I can't tell if he is actually asleep or just pretending to avoid conversation. He was a little more like himself this afternoon, so I know it wont be long until the monster returns. The bedside clock tells me it is 10:37 as I close my eyes and prepare for another night of searching.

I am more hesitant tonight. I still have no idea what was with the dogs and because of them I am now slightly incapacitated. Should I even try? No, I have to try; I have to work this out. Adelaide jumps onto the bed, purring sweetly and pushing her head under my hand.

"What are you up to girl?" I say stroking her back. Her purrs increase as she closes her eyes tilting her head to the side for a good ear scratch. "Are you going to help me tonight?" Her eyes flash open as she straightens up and looks directly into my face. She seems to be staring at me, maybe answering my questions. Her purrs have quietened down and now her head tilts to the side as she continues to stare intently into my eyes.

Something is too bright and it's making my eyes water, I have to close them and look away. When I open my eyes again I'm in Santa Monica and Adelaide is sitting on the concrete at my feet.

"Did you do that girl?" I ask Adelaide as I bend down to rub her back. She appears mildly content with herself as she looks up at me, so I guess the answer is yes.

"Ok where to?" I am taking instructions from a cat. This is so bizarre.

Adelaide walks away from the pier and the carnival with a quick look over her shoulder to me. Ok, so I'm supposed to follow. We walk slowly down Ocean Front Walk passing between the tourists and natives. I wonder how this must look to them. Me dressed in my tracksuit without shoes limping along behind a fluffy white cat down a beautiful beach front walk. I stifle a giggle. I guess I have seen people try to walk cats before and this is America so nothing is unexpected. I breathe in the air around me and force my mind to concentrate. I can't feel him again, but Adelaide seems to know where she is going so we keep moving forward.

We continue along for a few minutes until she turns off the walk and heads for a side street and I can feel something has changed. Is it him? The sensation isn't quite the same but I know that it is something. And then I see him. He is standing in the shadows of a cluster of trees looking as magnificent as I remember. Again he is wearing dark jeans and I can see the sun reflecting off the same silver belt buckle I saw in the observatory. Today it is a crisp white t-shirt that clings seductively to his body, but it also washes out his pale skin slightly and makes his hair seem almost black. I want to run towards him but Adelaide stops in front of me. I try to walk around her, but she begins pacing like a lion protecting its meal, staring into my eyes. I don't understand. She brought me here and now she wont let me get any closer to him.

I look up to see him again and I think I realise why. There is a beautiful woman standing in the shadows with him. Her black spiky hair shines from the sun reflecting off the concrete and she flicks it flirtatiously as she laughs with him. She is a few inches shorter than him and she uses this to her advantage as she looks into his face through long thick lashes, tilting her head to the side every now and again. I move to the side of the road so I am out of their line of sight and hide behind a huge palm tree.

This isn't what I wanted. I can feel hatred for this unknown woman and maybe even some for him. But who was I kidding. I'm a strange washed out woman in a track suit and she is a slim beauty in spray on pants and a fitted barley there shirt, why would I be anything to him? This pixie like woman seems to be bursting with energy, both seductive and playful and now I catch my breath as I watch him reach out and touch her arm. Is it a tender action? Could it just be a friendly touch? I can tell by the way she acts around him that she feels much more than friendship, but what about him? Is this why the pull I feel towards him feels so different right now? He has a new play thing, time for me to go to the recycling bin.

But what about my answers? Surely the reason I am looking for him is to get some answers. At least that is what I have to convince myself. I don't think I realised how attached I have become to this vision of a man. I feel so jealous of that woman having a normal conversation with him as all I have had is a few moments here and there when I can barley construct a sentence. Now I feel like he is cheating on me. So stupid. This is so much more hurtful than the betrayal I felt when I discovered about Mike's little trysts. I feel a part of me breaking.

"Common Adelaide," I whisper. "I think it's time we left." She rubs her head gently against my ankle and the blinding sunlight is gone.

I get a text message from Angela in the morning inviting us over for a coffee. I know I won't be much company but I decide to go anyway and it will be good for Re to play with the boys one last time. My disappointment last night has pushed my plans up a gear. I am not looking for this mystery man anymore; I still can't shake the resentment I feel towards him even though there was nothing real between us. I have to get over my stupid teenage fantasy and get on with things.

I have booked the airplane tickets for Renesmee and me for two days time when Mike has a job in Launceston. If Mike is Mike, then he will go out for drinks after the job, probably pick up some bimbo and end up staying the night, well somewhere. That means it will be at least twenty four hours until he discovers we are gone, plenty of time. I wonder if he will care.

I dress in the one pair of jeans I haven't packed with a light sweater over my favourite peach singlet. Renesmee picks out her favourite pink dress from of the wardrobe and jumps for joy when I tell her she is allowed to wear it. I usually try to avoid this kind of dress which is why I hadn't packed it. The only problem with having a daughter is that all the clothing is so girly. It's all pink lace and frills and I'm not really a girly girl. It seems my daughter may be though and who am I to complain.

In the bathroom I try to get Renesmee's ringlets to do something normal, giving up in the end and tying a white ribbon around her head. I use come concealer and bronzing powder on my face to try to disguise the yellowing bruise on my cheek, again giving up and leaving my hair down to hang across my face.

It's the full quartet again when I arrive at Angela's. I'm glad because it's not often anymore we can all get together and this is twice in one week. I don't want to tell them that we are leaving, it just makes things too hard and I hate goodbyes, especially involving emotional pregnant women. These women have been my saviour these last couple of years and without them I don't think I would have lasted this long. They are the only reason I don't want to leave Tasmania, but I know that I must. I check myself in the rear view mirror, steady my breathing, cover my bruise and fix a peacefully content expression onto my face and exit the car.

As soon as I knock on Angela's door my charade begins. I feel like I'm having an out of body experience as I hear my bubbly welcome and over enthusiastic involvement in all the conversations. It's like I have split in two again and the normal me is here with the ladies and the sad depressed me is sitting in the car waiting to become one later. Occasionally sad me makes an appearance but I'm fairly confident that she wasn't noticed. I have the feeling that sad me is a bigger part of my being than normal me.

When I notice Re begin to rub her eyes three hours later I decide it's time to go. I collect all our paraphernalia, essential for a short trip out with a small child and say my quick goodbyes to everyone. Unusually, Angela gets up and follows me to the car.

"Your going aren't you?" she says when we are out of earshot of the others standing in the doorway.

"What makes you say that?" I bluff.

"I know you Bella. You haven't been yourself lately and today you are more distant than I have ever seen you. And the bruise," she adds.

"I'm sorry Angela. Things are just really confusing at the moment. I don't really know what is going on." I answer truthfully. I guess my charade wasn't a good one.

"If he hits you, you get out of there, no matter what it takes," she orders me.

"You have nothing to worry about there," I smile. "I'd better get Re home before she turns feral," I joke.

"You know there is always room for you and Renesmee here" she adds.

"I know, and thanks Angela, but I think we will be ok."

"Talk to you soon," Angela promises, pulling me into an unexpected hug.

I wave to them all and give them the biggest smile I can muster and head off. I wonder if it is really the last time I would see any of them. How many times can my heart feel this pain in one day? Last night I saw the man I have been dreaming about with another woman and it looked more than friendly and today I have to leave three of my best friends and I can't even tell them what is going on.

My mystery man; I still long to see him but I know that I have to forget him. It's nothing, never was anything real except the hurt I now feel. And it's so silly. I'm dreaming about someone and suddenly I have made him the be all and end all of my life. The thought makes me laugh.

I put Re down for her nap when we get home and I quickly finish packing our bags, checking and rechecking that I have everything. All I need to add now is our toiletries when we leave and we are ready to go. I notice the travel book peeking out from under a t-shirt in my bag. I yank it out and throw it unceremoniously into the bin. Useless waste of my time!

When I hang the washing on the line I realise how much I have distanced myself from Mike lately. I hang his tighty whities on the line for anyone who may look over the fence to see, where as my intimates are safely hidden in the middle of the Hills Hoist. Even when we eat dinner, I serve his on one of the odd plates when Re's and mine match. Secretly, subconsciously separating us both from him. Renesmee calls for me a short time later and as a distraction we decide to make some cookies to fill in the afternoon.

"BELLA!" Mikes voice booms as he storms through the front door. The glass in the door trembles to breaking point and Re clings to my leg in the kitchen as we wait for him to appear.

"What the hell is going on?!" he demands when he finds us. I don't know what he is talking about but I shift my weight to put Renesmee behind me. He takes in my blank expression and moves towards us.

* * *

**A/N**

**Just to fix up a bit of confusion, Re is short for Renesmee, because this Bella wasn't so fond of the name. To be explained later.**


	5. Conflict

"I got a call from the bank today!" Mike yells. "Something about our savings account. Courtesy call you know. So much money in the award saver account that maybe we should invest in something or another. What are they talking about? Are you hiding money from me Bella?" he demands, grabbing my shirt.

"Renesmee, why don't you go into your room for a minute honey?" I suggest turning to my princess.

"Mummy?" her eyes are pleading and her arms grasp tighter around my leg.

"Its ok, baby. Mummy and daddy just have to talk." Oh Shit! He's found me out.

"Go to your room!" Mike bellows. Renesmee looks at me with tears in her beautiful eyes but refuses to move.

"Calm down Mike. What's going on?" I say trying to settle the situation. I feel Renesmee's body tremble and a little squeak escapes from her lips.

"The money Bella! Tell me about the money!" he yells pulling me by my clothing closer towards him.

"Are you talking about the Christmas money?" I ask.

"Don't give me that crap!" he growls as his hot breath flows across my face.

"Mummy?" Re squeaks behind me.

"It ok honey. Mummy just put some money away to see grandpa at Christmas and daddy doesn't remember me doing it," I say giving Mike the look like he should have known this.

"Christmas money?!?" Have I fooled him?

"Christmas money," I say as calmly as I can manage.

"There is too much!" He is yelling again, but not as loud this time.

"You know we have to pay for Renesmee now," I continue soothingly. "And I thought this time we might take the boat. You know how dad spoils her and with the boat we can take the car and we don't have to leave that much behind." I add with a smile. Renesmee peeks around my legs at her farther.

Mike begins pacing around the kitchen, gnawing at his fingernails the way he does when he is thinking. An occasional 'Humph' escapes from his lips as he shoots accusing looks at me from the corner of his eye. After a few minutes of near silence he turns his disparaging finger at me and states "I don't believe you!"

I try to stare him down, hoping that the innocence on my face is convincing. He almost seems to waver in his anger fuelled determination, but the possessed look remains in his eyes.

"What are you up to Bella?" he growls through gritted teeth.

"I put money away for Christmas," I repeat calmly.

"Stop lying to me!" he yells charging towards us again. "You have been up to something and I know it! Where have you been going to at night? Who have you been meeting? Are you breaking your vows to me?!" My vows to him, I think suppressing a giggle, now is not the time to laugh. Focus Bella.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mike," I hiss at him. "I am in your bed every night with you, in the room next to Renesmee's," I add placing a protective arm around her shoulders.

"You are not always there!" his booming voice reverberates through the kitchen.

"Oh common Mike. I'm there when we go to bed and there when we wake up in the morning and every second in between." I say, sarcasm lacing my voice.

"NO! I wake up and your not there and then somehow you are!" he accuses forcing Re and I back against the wall.

"Maybe you are just dreaming and wishing I was gone!" I snap. I've had enough of this. He punches the wall next to my head and plaster dust falls across my shoulder and to the floor. Renesmee begins whimpering louder into my thigh.

"Mike! Control yourself," I demand looking from Re to him. I see the blood flow to his face and his hands ball into fists by his side.

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!!" he screams.

He has lost all control and the anger in his face tells me he is coming for me again. I grab Renesmee in my arms, curving my body around to protect her and close my eyes waiting for the impact to come. And I wait...

* * *

A/N

Short and sweet one one today. Had to stop it there otherwise it gets too long and I don't want to loose you guys.

Thanks


	6. Home

It's too quiet, too still. Slowly sounds come to me. I hear the mass of leaves rustle in the gentle breeze and the distant hum of the highway. A goat bays and a Kookaburra laughs. As I open my eyes my body relaxes around Renesmee.

"Gumpa!" she sigh excitedly. I place her on the ground and take her hand as we walk up the driveway of dads place. Did I really just do this? Are we in Pearcedale, my childhood home? The place I would always call home no matter where I was. The farm had always been mums dream but dad refused to move. Mum had been missing for over twenty years now but dad seemed to think she would come home one day and he would be right here waiting for her as if not a day had gone by. I want that conviction, that love.

My parents had been childhood sweethearts and I doubt if another had ever crossed their minds. They were so wrong for each other, but that's what made it so right. Dad became cop, raised by a cop and very strict and formulaic in everything he does. Mum was a child of the hippy era. Free love, anti establishment and all that jazz. She was raised by Fred, my grandfather to be everything that time in history worshiped yet somehow she found dad.

He was a shy fifteen year old and she was an outgoing thirteen year old with a glint in her eye just for him. And that was it. There was no turning back. Five years later they were married and two years later I came along. Everyone thought there would be more kids but none ever came and it was something I never talked about with dad.

"Bella? Nessie?" Dad is on the porch trying to save the plants again. I had to hide a giggle at dads nick name for Renesmee, Nessie the little monster.

"Gumpa!" Re squeals as she runs to give him one of her kamikaze cuddles. The shock of our appearance dissolves into joy on dads face as he wraps his arms around my baby. I know it kills him to have us so far away, but there was nothing I could do to get away. Nothing until now.

"Something's come up dad," I say reaching out to hug him.

"Where's Mike?" Oh crap!

"We left him at home. We left him." I think we left him. Dad's eyes pass over the yellowing bruise on my cheek and the dark shadows under my eyes.

"Welcome home kid" he says as he wraps his shielding arms around me. "Shall we see what in the fridge?" he asks Re.

"Bickies!" She screams with delight pulling us both into the house.

I leave Renesmee and dad in the kitchen to wander the property. It feels like so long since I've been here even though we were just here at Christmas. I find a dry open space of grass in the back yard and lay down. I feel like I haven't breathed in so long and I let the fresh country air fill my lungs. I watch the clouds trying to make out shapes the way I used to with mum.

Mum. I wonder if she is still out there somewhere. Would she leave me and dad? Would she know what's going on with me right now? I need some answers. Mum and I were so different. I'm like dad in most ways but I think it's because of that that she got me. She was always someone to turn to, reliable yet scatty in her own magical way. She was my best friend. Mum was a young soul, it's the only way you could describe her. She liked playing dress ups as much as I did; and colour by numbers! I'd forgotten about those. We used to change the colours and see who could get the strangest pictures. She was so good at playing hide and seek in the corn patch that I gave up playing it with her. But it was this, laying in the paddock somewhere and looking at the clouds that was our thing. I used to love it when the grass had been left to grow too long and we could hide out here for hours. It was so peaceful watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky, feeling the grass sway around me and listen to my mum's musical voice describing the pictures in the clouds that I couldn't make out on my own.

I was nine or ten when she went missing. I remember things were a little strange before hand but nothing that would make her run away. That is what the police said she did. No matter how hard dad tried they never took him seriously. They wouldn't let him work the case, handed it off to some other department, but that never stopped him. He rang them daily for two years until a very large detective came and told him in no uncertain terms that they would contact him if they found anything. How could they find anything if they weren't looking? Dad had used most of their saving hiring private detectives, even talking to informants but no one ever found a trace of her. Even Fred was no help. He said she was a free sprit like her mother and couldn't be expected to stay in one place. What the hell does that mean?

Watching the clouds pass across the sky I think about what Mike said to me. Was I really not there at times? I mean completely gone, not this split in two feeling I've been having. Did what ever I've just done happen before? Days ago I realised that these dreams were real, but it wasn't until I heard Mike's words that I was proven right. Now I know I have this thing, whatever it is, how do I utilise it? My last two nights of searching have shown me nothing useful so I must do this on my own as always. I need to control this power, for use of a better word, and I need to make things right. I wonder what Mike is doing right now, what he saw. I hope he thinks he is going mad. It serves him right. But dad, I have to make him believe the unbelievable. Maybe it would be best if he didn't know, not until I know at least. So I can move from place to place and bring people with me when the need calls for it. All I have to do now is work out how to do it when I want it to happen.

I must have been lying in the grass for longer than I realised because dad and Renesmee have come looking for me. They join me on the ground and together we watch the clouds. I am surprised at how normal Re seems. She isn't filled with questions like I expected or telling dad strange stories about what happened or what has been happening and I'm glad. I haven't quite worked out what I'm going to tell dad about my bruise or our sudden appearance and the last thing I want is to traumatise my princess. As long as she is ok I can get through this.

After dinner dad and I watch Re playing with the new kids. Goats are like puppies to her and she loves the new borns so much. Her ingenuous enthusiasm for life and her innocent giggles remind me of mum. The kids jump through the long grass as my little Nessie monster runs along behind and the setting sun shines its orange glow over the horizon.

"So where are your bags? Did the airline loose them?" Dad asks, breaking my meditation.

"What? Oh yeah. In a one hour flight they loose two bags. Can you believe it?" I hope my sarcasm is enough to fool dad. I still haven't worked out how I am going to get our stuff over here. I only have my wallet in my back pocket and the clothes we have on our backs.

"Why didn't you call me to come and pick you up from the airport?" dad says with a slight look out of the corner of his eye.

"I was just so frustrated," I reply. "I couldn't think straight when our bags went missing. I just wanted to get out of there." When did I become a good liar?

"Any idea when your things are likely to turn up?" he asks me.

"Airlines! Got no idea dad. I hope it's not too long." I answer with a wary smile.

"Well, I've still got some of Nessie's clothes here that should fit her," he says getting up, "and you should fit into your mothers clothes ok so your both covered until your things arrive." I stare at dad as he quietly turns and walks back into the house. I should have realised he would never throw out mums clothes, but hearing him mention her again after so longs… I can't quite explain what I'm feeling right now.

I realise I'm staring at an empty space where dad was and turn my attention back to Renesmee. I can see her in the paddock and I hear her giggles but they sound distant as my mind struggles to catch up. I have spent a greater part of the afternoon thinking about mum but to truly comprehend dads belief that she is coming back is a shock to me; how can he, after all these years, honestly believe that?

I'm not sure how long I sit here absorbed in my own thoughts, but when Re finally comes running up to me it is almost dark and getting cold. I take her hand as we go into the house to get ready for bed. Dad has laid out one of mums old t-shirts on Re's bed. I recognise it as the one she wore at Christmas. Renesmee likes to sleep in my old clothes the same way I used to sleep in mums. It's a real treat for her to have something of mums. Even before mum disappeared I would sleep in her old t-shirts, or when I was really lucky it would be one of her long silk nightdresses. I loved the way they felt on my skin as I slept and when I was really lucky, they would still have her smell imbedded in the fabric. Peaches, mum smelt like peaches that were a little bit too ripe and oh so sweet. It is a feeling and smell that will always make me feel safe.

Dad comes in to say goodnight to my princess and she uses her charm and talks him into reading her a story. I lean up against the door arch and watch the magical vision unfold in front of me. It's like something out of a classic family movie. Dads arm wraps lovingly around her shoulder and her head rests on his chest. As he reads the story from one of my favourite childhood books, his cheek presses gently onto her curls. I can feel a smile spreading across my face and it feels like the first real happy emotion I have had in so long. I sneak into the hallway and leave them to their perfect moment.

Although it's still early I feel exhausted. As I stand in the kitchen trying to decide if I want a coffee or to go to bed, dad tiptoes from Renesmee's room with a quiet smile on his face.

"Do you know your daughter snores?" he states with a chuckle.

"Come off it dad!" I smile back. And in this moment I feel happy, comfortable, really at peace, which is strange with all the things that are going on at the moment, but I can't help but relax a little.

"How about a cuppa?" dad asks turning the kettle on.

"I was thinking about it," I reply sliding onto a chair at the kitchen bench. "Do you remember how I have it?" I add smirking.

His face seems to glow slightly as he answers, "Same as me."

* * *

**A/N**

**Please send me reviews and let me know how I'm going. Be gentle, I am a virgin at this, but any and all feedback is great.**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**


	7. Mum

There are no more strained question and answers as we sit around the bench with our drinks. We both just talk about stuff, everyday things that are going on. Even though we talk on the phone every week or so, there is so much more conversation when we are face to face. For a prim and proper man my dad is one hell of a gossip. I guess it comes from years in the lunch room at the police station. When they weren't talking about minor infractions and training days, it was whose parent is doing what behind whose back, who got caught drinking, and who did a dodgy deal with whom. I feel genuine laughter ripple through my body as dad tells me about Conrad, the local handy man who is really not that handy. It surprises me that he still has a licence, or any customers left for that matter. Apparently some new residents in town hired him to fix their roof and somehow Conrad managed to knock down a major support wall in their house, but didn't touch the roof! Then he tried to fix the wall and broke through a water main and flooded their kitchen! Then he brought is brother in on the clean up job and he is just are reliable as Conrad. By the time dads gets through the story there are tears rolling down my face and my stomach hurts from laughing.

"OK kid," dad says after another hour or so, "I think it's time for bed. Let's go get you some clothes."

I follow dad down the other end of the house to his bedroom. I freeze in the doorway as he turns on the light. Nothing has changed; absolutely nothing. Mum's shoes are still sitting on the shoe rack next to dads at the far end of the room. Her necklaces and bangles are hanging on little hooks on the dressing table next to her jewellery box. The bright scarfs she always wore hang over the ends of the mirror. Even her lipsticks are still lined up on her bedside table. Everything is clean, not a speck of dust as if they had been used yesterday rather than twenty years ago. Dad opens the wardrobe and I can see it is the same there. All her clothes hang just as she left them, nothing moved, nothing thrown away, nothing changed. I feel a kind of shocked stupor flow over me as dad takes a step to the side, inviting me to pick out some clothes, some of mums clothes.

As I reach out and touch the coloured fabrics in front of me a wave of peach scent hits my nose. Images of mum flash before my eyes wearing the clothing now between my fingers. The visions are so much more vivid with her bouquet attached to them. I take a staggered breath and look at dad feeling the tears start to well in my eyes.

"I know Bella." he says putting his hand on my shoulder. I can see by the look in his eyes that he truly understands me right now. "I'll leave you alone for a bit shall I?" he suggests, squeezing my shoulder gently before leaving the room. The good thing about dad, he doesn't hover

It is so hard for me to be in here with mums things like this. It really feels as though she isn't gone. Maybe that is why dad keeps things this way. But I don't think that is the only reason. Without the worry of Mike hanging around I think I am truly seeing dad for the first time in years. I know he likes to believe she is coming back, but now I see how much conviction he seems to have in the fact that she will. I can see it now, stronger than I realised this afternoon, but I just don't understand it. I used to think it was just wishful thinking on his part, but its not. He genuinely believes it and I want to know why.

I feel like I'm a little girl again. Do you remember what it felt like as a child when you were doing something that you knew was wrong but you kept doing it anyway? I don't feel right going through her things in case she walks in and catches me.

The tears continue to flow softly down my face as I look at each piece hanging in the wardrobe. Every garment holds a memory for me and although they are all beautiful visions of my mother, there is genuine sadness attached to each recollection. I don't think I have really felt this before. I don't feel as though I truly mourned mum. Maybe that is because of dads faith in her return, maybe it is because I suddenly became a homemaker at ten with no time to think about what was going on. I now understand why dad never grieved like he was expected to. She was coming back and there was no need to mourn when he knew that. So many of his friends and colleagues were genuinely worried about him. When he went back to work after three days they thought he wasn't accepting the truth and were concerned for his mental state and my safety. They all thought he would snap one day when it all sunk in, but it never happened. He continued to work right up until his retirement a few years ago without the slightest sign of mental instability. A few years after her disappearance people stopped asking about mum and a short time later they stopped worrying about dad. After a while I think everyone just forgot. I can't stay in here any longer. I pull some random things out of the wardrobe and leave without looking back at the time capsule which is dads' life.

I take a breath to steady myself before going back to dad at the other end of the house. I give him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek before slipping away to my old bedroom. Not much has changed in here in twenty years but at least there have been changes. My small pink wooden bed has been replaced with a wrought iron queen size bed. The posters of boy bands have been replaced with pictures of my friends and my old cassette player is now a CD player with MP3 compatibility. But these are all changes I made when I was here.

I now feel truly emotionally exhausted. I drop mums cloths on the chair near the window and sit on the edge of my bed, kicking my shoes and socks off one by one and removing my shirt. I notice one of mum's silk night dresses is lying across the bed next to me. I reach out and gently stroke the fabric. I'm not sure if I can handle wearing it tonight. I hold it in my hands, bringing it up to my face, pressing it against my cheek and breathing in the scent I pray is still there. And this is how I sleep, dressed in my jeans and singlet with mums' night dress cradled in my arms.

* * *

It's dark but I can feel my mystery man close by. What is he doing here and have I forgiven him yet? A small light moves through the darkness in the distance towards me becoming larger the closer it gets. I squint trying to make out something, but there is just the light. Suddenly I feel his breath on my ear as he murmurs my name pulling my hair back over my shoulder. I feel his body adding a chill to the air behind me. His cool hand slides down the nape of my neck, gently sliding my strap off my shoulder. Goose bumps cover me as his lips follow his hand across my body, barley touching my skin. I feel overcome with heat, my heart races and my head begins to spin.

"I have to go," he says sounding so distant already.

I cry out, "No!" but he is already gone.

This space is brighter now and I realise that the light coming towards me is actually a person. I can see their backlit shape clearer, they must only be ten meters away. I stare at the form, trying to make out some discernable features. An orange and yellow scarf flicks out to the side of them, blown by a wind I can't feel.

"Hello my Bella, my Sunshine," my mothers' musical tone fills this strange space.

"Mum?" I stutter. She is standing in front of me surrounded by a halo of white light. She dresses as I remember in a long flowing orange skirt and a loose fitting orange and yellow tie dyed shirt. The scarf I saw before is tied to the side of her neck with the ends hanging either side of her shoulder. Her flowing brown hair is longer than I remembered and it is now filled with flecks of grey. She looks at me now with her kind and tender eyes from a face which has not changed.

"I think you need my help," she says reaching out to take my hand. I hear the familiar light clinking sound as the multitude of bangles on her wrist brush against each other.

"I don't know what is happening to me mum," I feel my voice cracking, filled with emotion.

"I will tell you what I can, but I don't have much time." I can hear the urgency in her voice.

"I don't understand," I say as I feel the tears welling.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she replies looking over her shoulder. "I've broken a lot of rules to get this far."

"But where have you been?" I plead as my tears begin to flow over.

"I'm so sorry Sunshine. I would have come back if I could have. You must believe me," she begs calling me by her nickname for me.

"But you left," I whisper. "You left dad and me all alone."

"I had no choice. I couldn't put you in danger."

"Danger…" I begin but Mum places her hand over my mouth and we both freeze and listen.

"I have to go," she hisses quietly at me. "I am sorry my beautiful Sunshine," and then she is gone and it is dark again.

I find myself gasping for air as I sit up in bed. I flick on my bedside lamp, looking around the room. There is nothing here out of the ordinary, except for me of course. Was that a dream? I'm not really sure of anything right now and I have been thinking of mum all day. She is the only one who calls me by that name and the only one who ever did, so it's only natural that I would dream about her that way. But all the talk of danger, not being able to come back to us and breaking rules, do I really have that much imagination? Why is it I can never get any answer only more and more questions. I lay my head back down on the pillow and attempt to salvage some sleep tonight.

* * *

**A/N**

**Please excuse my Australian spelling, as I am after all Australian.**

**Reviews are like Edwards night time touches.**

**Thanks**


	8. Breakout

"Morning sleepy head," dad calls from my bedroom door.

"What time is it?" I ask untangling myself from the covers.

"Ten. I thought you could use the sleep in. Nessie and I have made pancakes if you'd like some?" he says giving me a strange look as he notes my jeans and singlet.

"That would be great dad. Give me a few minutes to get moving will you?"

There is no use changing into different clothes now so I wander into the kitchen for breakfast. I can hear Renesmee's enthusiastic babbles before I reach them. I still can not get over how calm and, well, I guess the word is well adjusted she appears. She witnessed her father and me in a violent argument and in an instant she and I travelled several thousand kilometres and she seems to have no questions or thoughts on the entire thing. I wonder if she is in delayed shock.

"I'm going out to see Harry and Sue Clearwarter today," dad says. "Would you like to come with me? You know how they love to spoil Nessie"

"I should really stay home," I murmur into my pancakes. "In case the bags turn up," I add quickly.

"Do you mind if Nessie comes with me. I sort of already told them she would and they are so excited," he adds sheepishly.

"Its fine dad. I'll just hang around here though if that's ok?" Dad gives a little skip of excitement and grabs Re.

"We're going to visit uncle Harry and aunty Sue! Wont that be fun?" he sings swinging her into the air.

"Not too much red cordial or lollies," I call after him as they dance out of the room.

Maybe dad has softened up a bit in his old age because I don't remember him being this fun or childlike before. I like it. It reminds me of mum. Mum; what the hell was with that dream last night? I know now it has to be a dream otherwise how can I explain the beginning? He was touching me in such a seductive way and I know that is not how my usual night time travels turn out. A not so small part of me wishes they would though. Ok, so I have forgiven him for the other woman but I still need to focus on the achievable, getting our things. Is that achievable?

I give dad and Re my blessing for what I know will be a day of cake and lollies and way too much sugar for a two year old and decide it's a good time to shower. When I return to my room wrapped in one of dads massive towels I look at mums clothing thrown haphazardly on the chair. This is the first time as an adult I will be wearing her clothes and it takes a bit of coaxing to get me ready for that experience. 'Its just clothes' I chant to myself as I pull each item on. 'Just clothes. Breath.'

When I look into the mirror I realise how much like mum I appear standing here. The clothing I have chosen is a long dark blue beaded skirt and a long sleaved shirt with several tones of blue mixed into one another. The colours seem to suit my complexion, no matter how raged and drawn it appears. I feel as though I am looking back in time and the face that appraises me from the other side of the reflective glass is hers.

I look at the picture of mum I have attached to the side of the mirror. Although it is slightly faded, all her beauty and exuberance still shines through. She would have been twenty eight or twenty nine when it was taken and she is almost the spitting image of me now. Her shining brown eyes are lighter than mine, almost hazel and they look out at me from behind her fine lashes surrounding their almond shape. Her hair is just like mine. She had the same long brown, slightly curly hair that appears free and flowing the way mine used to. I run my fingers through my almost dry locks, trying to see if I can get them to flow and bounce again. No luck. I compare our other features.

Her face is heart shaped, mine is slightly fuller. She called me 'moon face' as a baby, her little 'Sunshine Moon'. Our cheeks sit high on our face, but not so high they make our eyes small, and they are always coloured with a soft pink flush. Mum used to joke that we never needed to wear blush, not that either of us wear much makeup anyway. We both have full red lips; hers were slightly fuller than mine. Kissable is how I used to describe them, full and soft and kissable, not that I've been doing much of that lately.

I always saw my mother as a truly beautiful person and now I see her in every detail of me. Am I beautiful then? I just can't see it. There was something special about mum that shone through which I don't seem to have. A good night's sleep would probably help and maybe things will get better now that I am away from Mike. Now that reminds that I have some work to do.

I shake my head, trying to bring myself back to this strange place which is my current reality. I have to try to get back to my former home in Tasmania. That is the only reason I have let dad turn Renesmee into Nessie, a sugar filled raging monster for the day and the only reason I am here alone. I know I have to focus, remembering what went through my mind the first time I attempted to do this deliberately. I have no idea what happened when I 'arrived' here at dads, so I begin looking back over what I think I know. Last time I'm pretty sure Adelaide did all that work and that's no good to me because she is in Tasmania, where I want to go. The night before it was all me though, I think.

Focus. I picture myself walking through my home, slowly sliding my fingertips along the walls and doors, closing my eyes I attempt to breath in the scent of the place and feel the textures change as my feet pass from carpet to wood floors to cool tiles. Cool tiles: the kitchen. I feel Mike's presence invade my thoughts, tainting everything around me. I can't keep my mind focused with all this emotional turmoil attached to the house. Images of his smug smile flash on my eyelids. I see him coming at me with his fists raised. I feel his breath on my skin as he chuckles darkly at me and pushes his body against mine. My breath quickens as my repulsion for this thing turns into overwhelming, unabated hatred. I hate him for everything he ever did to me and all those things he tried. I want to punish him for ever coming into my life. I hate him for turning me into this withering, weak excuse for a human. I hate him with everything I have. My blood boils as the anger overcomes my senses. I feel my rage building into a scream in my chest. This yell can not be silenced. It needs to be let out for the world to hear my pain and anger. I open my mouth and cry out louder than I would have thought possible pushing every muscle of my body into it.

Hundreds of white dots flicker across my eyes and my head begins to swim as my scream fades. I need to sit down. I feel my way to the edge of the bed and rest my head in my hands. How could I let Mike get to me like that? I'm finally free from him yet I let him invade my mind so thoroughly; it's just not fair. I feel like such a fool and I'm glad dad and Re aren't here to witness me going to pieces. I try to steady my breathing as the last images of my own personal monster flash onto my eyelids. 'Get a grip Bella,' I chant. I place my hand onto the bed to push myself off and realise that something is wrong. I know this bedspread a little too well. I peak a look out of one eye and note the floral swirl of soft pink roses and their delicate pale green leaves weaving across the thick material. This is my bedspread on my bed in Tasmania. Holy Shit! I'm here! And I have no idea how I did it.

I snap my head up and look around the room trying to confirm the impossible truth, slowly taking in every part of the space surrounding me. This is, or should I say was my bedroom. Nothing has changed, not that it should have. I've only been gone a day but it feels so much longer. I feel completely unattached to everything. There is nothing to hold me here anymore. It is as this thought crosses my mind that I spot Mike curled up in the corner next to the wardrobe, his body trembles slightly as he stares at me through his fingers. It seems so odd to me for him to be crunched up into the corner like that. I cock my head to the side, staring, and mildly fascinated by this unusual image as I wonder what he is so afraid of.

"Who are you?" he whispers from behind his hands. I have only been gone for one day haven't I? How does he not know me?

"Mike," I sigh. "Stop being so stupid." He cringes further into the cupboard as I get up off the bed and walk towards him. I feel nothing for him anymore, not even the immense hatred that filled me moments before.

"Stay away from me!" he attempts to yell. I'm a little taken aback. He's scared of me, really genuinely scared of me and I don't even have the carving knife. I should pack that just so I will always have that fond memory. I can feel a tiny smirk on my lips thinking of the way he looked when he realised where it was pointing.

"Just getting my things," I say lightly, reaching under the bed to get Renesmee's and my bags.

His eyes widen as he watches me and I hear the breath stutter out of his mouth as he whispers "Bella?"

"Who else would it be? How many other women do you have in your bed," I giggle before shooting a quick glance towards the bed to make sure there weren't any others. "None for today," I add quietly.

He continues to stare at me while I check the bags, adding our toiletries, my MP3 player and, on a whim, the carving knife.

"You can't take knives on planes you know," he says kind of smugly. I have to almost laugh. Mike is beginning to rise out of his shocked crouch and I can feel him beginning to become his 'good old self'.

"I think I'll manage it," I reply

"What has happened to you?" he enquires openly gaping at me as he slowly circles the room.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself about." I catch a glimpse of myself in wardrobe mirror and realise what he has just witnesses. I was wailing like a banshee when I arrived here, hair still slightly wet and hanging down across my face, dresses in the long blue clothes of my mother. He must have thought he woke into some Japanese horror movie.

"You are my wife," he states as his anger returns. "You belong here, with me. You are supposed to be loyal to me and..."

"Oh come off it," I cut in exasperated. "You have been anything but loyal to me for years."

His eyes widen in shock as he realises that I know all about the others. "What are you talking about?" he murmurs trying to mask the surprise.

I almost snort. "I'm not stupid Mike. I know you sleep around, not as much as you used to I think, but I've know about it for ages."

"I don't know what your talking about" he murmurs quietly again, refusing to meet my gaze.

"I don't care. I haven't for years." I state as he flashes a glance in my direction. His mouth seems to be opening and closing like a goldfish. I wonder what he is thinking. "Do you know what your best ad was?" I ask him. He shakes his head slowly.

"It was that one for men with erectile dysfunction. You thought you were playing the doctor, but I think they really got the casting spot on when they made you the patient." I say with a wicked grin.

"How dare you," he begins to bellow.

"It used to make me wonder what all your other lady friends thought when you weren't worth your tiny bang for their buck," I muse over him.

"You shut up. Do you hear me? Right now!" I have to chuckle as I watch his face go red and wonder why there was never really enough blood to flow to other parts when he really needed it.

"I can't wait to find a man who knows what he is doing," I add just for good measure as I pick up our bags and walk out of the bedroom.

"You are my wife," he calls after me. I stop by the kitchen counter when those words reach me. Carefully I place the suitcases down on either side of me and examine my left hand. I am still wearing my delicate gold and diamond engagement ring along with my plain gold wedding band. I never take them off because they are fairly tightly fitted. Slowly I try to pull them off with my right hand. To my surprise they both slide off in one easy motion. I place them on the counter, picking up my bags and head out the door, refusing to give that house or Mark one last look.

Once I'm in the street I pull my MP3 out of my bag, put the headphones on and start it up. Let's see where my music takes me. The distorted guitar and blues beats of Ash Grumwald fill my head. And the song is perfect, Breakout. "I'm leaving this town while I still can," his raspy voice growls to me. 'So am I,' I think happily to myself. I feel utterly euphoric because I know that part of my life is over and done with. I'm free and I can't stop grinning and I don't care about the pain it causes my cheek.

I walk down the street carrying the two suitcases, grooving along to the music, occasionally even singing out loud. I can not explain this feeling, especially as I haven't felt real happiness in so long, but this feels like so much more. My body feels as though it is literally vibrating which isn't exactly an unpleasant sensation. Little giggles begin spilling from my lips until they become full blown laughter and I feel like dancing. I spin around with the suit cases in my arms flashing between the sunlight and shadows of the trees standing over the foot path. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark. It's dark for too long. I stop spinning, stop giggling, pulling the headphones out of my ears. I notice the footpath has turned into a gravel road and the darkness is coming from the canapé of leaves above me. I'm home, back in Pearcedale.

I continue down a road as little until I reach dads driveway, feeling overwhelmingly lost, satisfied, confused, elated and; home. This is all too much for one person to handle on their own. I got home without even trying. God only knows what I am likely to do next.

* * *

**A/N**

**To clear up any confusion, Lollies are the Australian term for sweets or candy. Please let me know if these chapters are too long or confusing. You all are my guides. A lot more Edward very very soon.**

**Reviews are like dancing in the moonlight!**

**Thanks**


	9. Sweet Dreams

I feel the exhaustion wash over me when I have finished putting Nessie's things in her room. I need to lie down and collect my thoughts. It's only one in the afternoon but I feel like I've been awake for two days straight. I shuffle my feet to my room and collapse onto the bed, begging sleep to take me into her warm embracing arms. Breathe.

I see pale pink as the sun tries to force its light though my eyelids even though my mind tells me it is a heavily overcast day. Then I feel it, sense it, I don't know how to describe it, but I know it's him. Him. Please God give me a name. I want to open my eyes but they are glued together with sleep. And then I feel him.

Soft tender lips brushing against mine. My mouth is left tingling and wanting more. A cool hand slowly sliding down the side of my face and resting on my neck feeling my blood flow faster. The gentle weight of a perfect body presses against mine. Stupid thoughts begin to fill my mind. Do I have bad breath? Did I put deodorant on this morning? When was the last time I shaved my legs? Please God, touch me some more.

"Bella," his deep voice whispers to me between our lips as he kisses me again. All I can do is murmur. My body feels alive, tingling all over. I want to feel more.

I slide my hands up along his body resting on top of mine, feeling his chilled flesh through the thin cotton of his t-shirt and the indentations of his muscles underneath. I know it's him, every fibre of my being knows his touch even though I'm not sure I've really felt it before, but I just know. His lips brush against mine again but this time I'm ready and I kiss back, feeling his breath in my mouth as I open my lip slightly. Slightly is all the encouragement he needs as I feel him press harder against me. My thighs press against his legs as my back arches up, moving my chest into his. A small sigh escapes my mouth as I realise this is what kissing is supposed to feel like.

I slide my hand up further, along his strong shoulders to his neck and up into his hair, holding his face to mine, urging him on. His hair is so smooth and silky and I feel the little curls wrap around my fingers as they trail through it. His hand slides down across my shoulder moving the thin fabric of my shirt aside. How does he know that shoulders are my weak spot? Soon his hand is followed quietly by his mouth. My eyes roll back slightly behind my eyelids as I give in to the ecstasy. I can feel his lips and his tongue caress their way down my neck, pausing for a moment before they continue along my collar bone and across my shoulder and another sigh escapes my lips and my body pushes up towards his involuntarily.

I want to groan with pleasure. I want to press myself against him again. He seems to know what I am thinking and wraps his arm around my waist and holds me so tightly against him that his belt buckle pushes into my stomach. My body begins to move infinitesimally with his as his lips manoeuvre back up to my mouth. I feel his tongue press against mine and I taste him slowly and deliberately. I've never been much for chocolate, but he tastes like white chocolate kisses and I want more.

"Bella! We're home!" My eyes shoot open as I hear dads voice. My glance flicks to the clock on the wall, six thirty. I'm alone in my bed, my clothing is all messed up, my heart racing and other parts of my body are doing things they haven't done in years. I think I may even have sex hair. I don't think I can handle dreams like this much longer, but secretly I know I want more.

* * *

**A/N**

**I know it's really short but just picture Edward that way. In dreams I mean, not short.**

**Thankyou to Hawkins who picked up my mistakes in earlier chapters. You are my saviour and i think I have fixed them. Any Beta Readers who would like to help me out, please do. To everyone else, keep on reading. I love it!**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**


	10. Edward

Dad takes Nessie to the zoo today. He loves having us here so much that he doesn't ask anymore question about our strange appearance. He happily buys my story about our lost luggage being delivered the previous morning although he continues to give me the parental look, like he knows there is something more but doesn't know how to broach it. It reminds me of when he tried to talk to me about boys. In all honesty school gives us all the information these days and probably earlier than we need it, but when I started dating dad felt the need to talk to me. It was so embarrassing! What fifteen year old wants to sit down to dinner to hear the words, 'So about sex…'?

"There are things you need to know Bella," he began as I sank into my chair. "You see boys will want certain things, but you don't have to give it to them!" Oh please let it stop now I beg in my head.

"It's ok dad. I know this stuff and I'm not that kind of girl." Please can that be it I hoped.

"Bella, I know the boys I… talk to," he begins again after a moment of silence. Talk to means arrest in his language.

"Dad," I whisper. "That's not me and I'm not that sort of girl. I promise I am ok." I guess the fact that I'm like him made him believe me and the topic never came up again.

Again I find myself wandering the property. I feels so right here even though Nessie and dad aren't here right now. Maybe it's because of my connection to mum. Because of my dream the other night I'm beginning to believe that dad is right, that she is still out there somewhere, trying to find her way back to us. My feet take me where they wish as my mind wanders elsewhere.

"Bella," his soothing voice calls to me.

"What are you doing here?" I cry startled as he walks through the scrub into my view. My heart skips a beat as I see him in perfect daylight. Perfect.

"Weren't you looking for me?" he replies walking towards me.

"How did you know?" If he knew I was looking for him why didn't he come sooner?

"What happened to you?" he demands as his hand brushes against the shadow of the bruise on my cheek. There is genuine anger in his face and again my blood rushes to meet his touch.

"Nothing you need to worry about!" I rebut turning away from his touch yet longing to feel it again. I remember my dreams of him and feel the blush rise higher into my cheeks.

"Don't walk away from me!" he says in a stern voice.

"Who the hell are you? What is going on?" I challenge facing him.

"My name is Edward Cullen. I am a guide." he explains to me in his deep calm voice. I can not help but look at him, getting lost in his fathomless eyes.

"A guide for what?" I mumble. I don't seem to be able to function around him.

"For this life, Bella." he states spreading his arms out like a game show host. All his previous anger is gone now as his gaze searches my face, burning into my soul. I'm not sure if my blank stare is because of his answer or from the way I feel when he looks at me like this. I shake my head, trying to bring my mind back into reality.

"How do you know me? What life are you talking about? I need answers." I command looking into the scrub over his shoulder. It is easier to focus if I don't look into his eyes.

"Why don't we take a walk?" he says reaching for my hand. My heart stops beating as his fingers entwine around mine. His cool touch feels so soothing against my skin. A second later he releases my grasp and turns to walk away. It takes me a few moments for my heart to beat again and to realise that we are no longer at home. I look up to see the sun reflecting low across gentle waves on the deserted beach. He begins walking along the soft pale sand as I stay frozen on the spot, waiting for my senses to catch up. Everything is so surreal.

"Are you coming?" he calls over his shoulder and I run to catch up.

"A guide," I prompt when I am at his side.

"That is what they call me."

"They? Who are 'they'?" What the hell is going on?

"You are not alone, Bella," he begins, stopping to look at me again. "You are part of something so much bigger than you could imagine." I catch my breath that his eyes have taken from me and try to focus.

"This world you have been born into has been around for centuries," Edward continues. "The power you now possess has many uses and not all of them good. Because of that, guides like me are here to help you."

"But where have you been?" I ask. I wonder if he can hear the longing in my voice.

"You are not the only one going through the change at the moment," he explains. "You must understand this is quite an unusual thing. I have never in all my years as a guide come across so many discovering their powers at the same time. I'm a little worried actually." he adds quietly. My mind is racing. Another world, around for centuries, others like me, born into this. I still don't understand what is going on. He takes in my silent questions and explains further.

"We call ourselves 'Shifters' as we shift from place to place without mode or means. No one is quite sure how it started or why but we are here. If you are as good as I sense, you will not abuse your power. However, if you decide to go the other way then we shall become enemies." There is a warning in his words that I cannot dismiss.

"What exactly does a guide do?" I wonder aloud.

"Precisely that, Bella." I almost sigh hearing him say my name again. "As I am sure you are aware, there is a lot to this life that normal people do not understand. We guide you along the right path and show you what you need to know. But be wary of others who may come to you, promising you all you've ever dreamed. There is always a price and that price is too high." he explains.

We walk in silence for a few minutes listening to the waves rolling gently onto the shore. A chance for all I've ever dreamed of sounds like a pretty good offer, but now I only dream of Edward and in all the wrong ways. Well, maybe in all the right ways but here he is walking right beside me in all his glory and I have no idea what I am to him. Am I just one of the many he mentioned that he must mentor, or could I be something more? With the news of this other world that I now appear to be a part of why are his feelings for me so important? Wouldn't any sane person be filled with questions about 'shifting', how he knows where to find me and all this other world entails?

"Can you explain some more to me please? I'm still feeling…" what am I feeling, "confused." I finish.

"There are several kinds of shifters; each type holds something different from the others. Guides like me are here to explain these things to you. There are the old ones of this world who are like the law for our kind and extremely powerful. I pray you will never have to deal with them as it is not a pretty sight," he says absently rubbing the scar above his eye. "There are others with little quirks and those who abuse their powers for their own, shall we say 'joy', but your power is relatively easy to explain."

"Nice and simple," I murmur sarcastically.

"As you can probably guess, this power is very easy to abuse. Just think of the possibilities?" he grins at me. I feel me knees melting into his smile. "How easy would it be to shift into a bank vault, take all you wanted and shift out without anyone knowing you were ever there? 'I'm sorry officer, it couldn't have been me because I was one thousand miles away on the east coast last night'," he explains with a note of mischief in his voice. "But it is not just the shifting. Although they may not have come to you yet, you will also develop immense strength and speed. Just think of it as a kick of adrenalin to your system." I remember the day in the kitchen with Mike. That explains how I got the carving knife to him so fast.

"You may develop other attributes over times as well. Enhanced sight, smell, hearing and touch, but these are very rare occurrences." He continues to talk as he leads the way onto a boardwalk.

"How did you know about me and the others changing?" I ask, trying to absorb everything.

"It is part of my gift as a guide. I can sense the change coming before you realise it yourself. It's like a powerful pull to a person and I just have to be patient and wait until that person is ready." I wonder sadly if the pull I feel towards him is just that; the draw of a shifter to their guide. It feels so much more to me, more than I've felt before. Even when I was the love stuck teenager the emotions didn't feel this intense. I guess I have placed all my longing and unrequited love and crazy dream fantasies onto him as my saviour.

"Are you alright?" he asks as the sadness of my thoughts reflects on my face.

"Yes, keep going please," I mumble.

"What would you like to know?" he asks with a kind smile.

"How old are you?" That seems like a logical place to start.

"Twenty seven," he answers as a sly smile touches his lips.

"Wow, you seem so knowledgeable for your age." And I sound like an idiot. Can he really be just twenty seven?

"I age a little differently from you," he replies still with the sly smile and I decide not the push the question any further.

"You said I was born into this world, does that mean it's hereditary?" I wonder.

"Although there is the occasional mutation or manipulation, generally this is a hereditary gift. You are from one of the original lines Bella. Shifting can skip several generations but I believe your mother and grandmother had the gift."

"My mother?" I gasp. "But she has been missing for twenty odd years. Are you saying she was a shifter?"

"I believe so, yes." Edward appears surprised at my reaction. "Have I said something wrong?"

"I just… I can't see mum… My mum? Really? It just doesn't seem real." I stammer incoherently.

"I may be wrong Bella. Please don't worry. I will find you some answers ok?" he adds trying to reassure me. I look into his beautiful face with my wide shocked eyes feeling slightly overwhelmed by his presence yet somehow reassured.

"I never knew my grandmother." I murmur, almost talking to myself. "She died when mum was pregnant with me, but I'm told she was just like mum. How did Fred put it? 'A free sprit who couldn't be expected to stay in one place.' Oh!" Suddenly Fred's words mean something completely different. Could he have known what was happening to mum? Does he hold some answers for me? Bloody Fred and his Kombi are off travelling the world, Africa I think and I have no idea how to get in contact with him.

"Bella? Are you ok?" Edwards's voice brings me back to the here and now.

"Sorry," I say shaking my head. "How do you know when someone is ready? You said you had to wait."

"I do not believe a person is truly ready until they have shifted completely. At that point their power is fully developed, if not entirely controlled. It's different for everyone, especially men and women."

Men are from Mars and women are from Venus I think to myself. Even in this new existence never the twain shall meet. I was hoping with a common link in this power that I would be able to understand the opposite sex better. Who am I kidding? I want to understand Edward better. How easily his name comes into my mind when I have only known it for a few short hours. Edward; divine and walking so close to me right now. I can feel the heat of my body radiating towards him and being enveloped by his cool touch. I find myself staring at his features, analysing every line, scar and shadow on his face. He doesn't seem quite human, or maybe he's just too good to be true.

"There is something different about you," I say when I am finally able to look away. "Stranger than everything else."

"That's probably just because I have no heart beat," he replies nonchalantly. "People can usually sense a heartbeat even though they don't hear or feel it so it makes me seem a little odd."

"You have no heart beat!" I feel the urge to retrieve my jaw from the ground.

"It is what happens when we begin shifting," he says casually.

"But…" I stutter, "My heart still beats. Or is it going to stop too?" The thought terrifies me.


	11. Beating Heart

My mind is racing! I don't want to die, even if Edward is standing here with me in all his undead, non beating heart perfection. I want my heart to keep beating.

"It's ok Bella," he smiles. "It's just the men." He takes in my startled look and continues to explain. "When women begin shifting, they can only partially phase. Do you remember?" I think of the feeling of being in two places at once and remember hearing Mikes voice and the music from my MP3 when neither of them were with me and nod slowly. Edward continues, "It takes a great emotion to allow you to shift completely, but once you have you must learn to produce that forceful emotion to shift again at will. Shifting is ruled by your emotions, at least in the beginning"

My mind flashes back a few days to when I literally landed on dads door step with Nessie. I had been consumed with fear and the desperate need to protect us both. Very powerful emotions. Then there was the anger burning my soul that must have forced me to back to Tasmania yesterday. Things are slowly starting to make sense.

"But what does that have to do with your heart?" I ask.

"When men begin shifting the forceful emotion is the breaking of your heart." His beautiful eyes are touched with sadness and bitter hate as he looks out over the horizon.

"You have a broken heart," I whisper.

"In so many words, yes." A smile flashes across his face, but doesn't touch his eyes. "For men, the first time you shift you do it completely, you are in one location and then you are in another. There is no partial shifting. The exhilaration of this new found power is unbelievable, as I'm sure you understand, but then you have to deal with the pain that comes afterwards. The emotional pain of heartbreak is one thing, but to physically feel it breaking into pieces inside you… Well, it's something you can not imagine." He turns slowly away from me and begins to walk quietly along the boardwalk. I want to comfort him, to put my hand in his and tell him it will all be ok, but I never was a good liar and I'm not sure if everything will be ok. This is a whole new world to me and I have no idea what I have gotten myself into. I catch up to him and we walk along in silence for a while, both consumed with our thoughts.

"So if your heart doesn't beat," I begin, breaking the silence, "how are you alive?"

"Most of the blood lives in the system for a very long time. I still breathe and my lungs push the blood throughout my body the way my heart normally would. It keeps my body functioning." He sounds like he is giving a medical lecture and I wonder how many times he has had this conversation.

"Do you eat?" I stammer. What a stupid question.

"Yes, of course. I am a relatively normal human being. I eat, drink and sleep, although I'm not getting much of that with all the changing occurring at present." He smiles as he speaks to me and there is a caring tone in his voice that makes me relax… slightly.

"But you are paler than normal and your skin is cool." I state.

"The blood lasts Bella," he replies, "but not all of it. Over time it gets used up working the muscles and only a thin amount circulates as I get older. One day it will be gone completely."

"What will happen to you then?!" I almost yell. Please don't let him be gone.

"I guess I will die," he replies and I cannot detect even a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Can't you get a blood transfusion or something?"

"I would loose my power Bella," he smiles sweetly at me.

"But you would be alive," I press.

"Yes I would be alive, but in a world where I don't belong, where my heart still would not beat and where I have no real connections."

"You'd have me," I whisper.

His eyes twinkle slightly as he looks at me. "No I wouldn't. You are part of my world now remember?"

"But you would be alive," I mumble so quietly I wonder if he has even heard me. Edward sighs quietly and I can feel his eyes searching my face as I examine my shoes. I hadn't realised we had stopped walking again.

"I like my power Bella. I like that I can drop in on you when you need me." I fight the grin twitching on my lips. "I like being your guide. You have been quite entertaining to watch"

Entertaining to watch! What the hell does that mean? I wonder what I have been doing in my night travels that was so amusing for him, then I think back to the observatory. Thin tank top over cold hard skin. Not really a discrete look for me. I wonder if he liked the view.

"How long have you been watching me?" I ask, fighting the battle over whether to be annoyed or flattered or embarrassed.

"I can upon you just before you got you cat."

"Adelaide is nearly eight years old! I've only been shifting for a few weeks!" Eight years!

"I knew as soon as you picked that cat that you would be one of us, so I kept you close."

"I don't understand."

"Your cat, Adelaide has powers of her own. She is an animal version of a shifter, except these animals can not travel by themselves. Their role in this world is as a taxi, for better use of the term. They take you where you need to go when you can't get there by yourself."

"Oh. So that explains why she was the one who took me to Santa Monica when I saw..." I stop abruptly when I realise what I am about to say. I feel a sneer tickle my top lip as I think about the pixie like woman. I don't know why, but I don't want him to know I was there looking for him. Even though he already knows I was trying to find him, I feel a bit pathetic for doing it.

"You said this was hereditary; how can a heart be forced to break and change you?" I ask trying to fine a more pleasant subject and failing miserably.

"Sometimes it's purely bad luck on the mans' behalf, other times it is ruthlessly planned. Remember the groups of shifters I mentioned before?" he says turning to me. I nod silently. "Well there is one particularly evil group in these. There are some with the ability to change people who aren't predisposed to shifting but most have a power like a guide except they seek out men with dormant abilities. They are seductive and manipulative creatures which easily sway their pray and when the time is right for them, they crush their victim, smashing his heart into a million pieces. It's all a bit of a game for them and if they succeed then they may even get a new play thing." I can feel the hatred rolling off his body.

"And this is what happened to you?" I can't help but feel intrigued.

"Yes, but it was a long time ago."

Long time ago or not, I feel very possessive about Edward and I want to find this bitch and rip her eyes out. Maybe I'll shave her head to so she can't be all seductive and hurt any more people. Maybe she can teach me how to be seductive first, and then I'll kill her. If only I had the power to seduce Edward… Focus Bella!

"I just can't fathom how you're alive with no heartbeat," I say trying to change the subject again.

"I'm sort of like a vampire in that way," he says grinning at me when he sees my shocked reaction to the statement. "I don't drink blood, I can go out in the daylight, but my heart does not beat and I don't age."

"Say What!" I blurt out. He wasn't kidding about there being so much I don't know. "You don't age? Huh? I mean… I have no idea what I mean…" I am completely out of my depth here.

"It's just one of those things. The rest of me is relatively normal, aside from the strength and the speed and the shifting, of course."

"Of course," I murmur. "Totally normal human being." HA!

"Bella," hearing him speak my name so tenderly begins to bring me out of my shocked stupor, "Do you need to sit down? You look a little faint." Edward offers as he places his hand on my shoulder.

I feel my body lower onto the park bench behind me like I am melting. He is touching me again and all the blood has gone from my head, from my entire body. Flashes of my dreams about him break into my thoughts, making me feel self-conscious. I feel like a giggly teenage school girl with a crush, except he has no heart beat and he doesn't age. He sits down beside me and I sense his concerned gaze.

"Did I say too much?" he asks quietly leaning towards me.

"No, it's just a lot to take in," I breathe in barley a whisper. He has no heart beat. He doesn't age. His eyes see my soul. His touch melts my bones. He has been watching me for years. He likes being my guide. I feel an unbelievable urge to touch him. There is a tension in the air, like our bodies are somehow linked and pulling towards each other. I turn to look at him and I meet his smouldering gaze. He is closer than I thought and it takes my breath away. My eyes flicker between his mouth and his eyes as I slowly lick my lips. His mouth is so close, barley two inches from mine and I taste his sweet breath on my tongue. My stomach twists into knots as he moves closer to me. I close my eyes as and my heart beats fast enough for both of us.

* * *

**A/N**

**Thankyou everyone who has added me to their fav's and please keep the reviews coming/**

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**Cuddles**


	12. Sighisoara

Shit! Right; powerful emotions cause shifting. I have no idea where the hell I am, or where Edward is. And I almost kissed him! I pace furiously up and down the dark deserted street trying to reclaim my emotions. The signage around me is in a language I don't recognise and the buildings look ancient, colourful and mildly gothic. 'Breathe Bella,' I chant to myself. 'Relax.' Eventually my pacing slows to a gentle walk and I begin exploring the cobblestone streets around me, thinking about how I'm going to get home.

Yesterday I managed to shift twice but I knew where I was and where I was going and I had my emotions behind it. I stop, closing my eyes and picture dads place with every detail I can force into my mind. Nothing. I try again and again and although I feel my body wavering, when I open my eyes I'm still here in this dark street. Edward knew I was looking for him before so maybe he will be able to find me again now. I try to picture him in all his exquisite beauty and focus my thoughts, pushing my body to his unknown location. The wavering feels stronger this time but still I am alone in the dark. I sit on the stoop of a nearby shop and wait for him to find me. I think about Nessie and dad and hope that they are ok and not worrying about me. I'm not even sure what time it is at home, or here for that matter.

The buildings around me are packed close together and three to four stories high. Their colours unexpectedly break through the darkness with splashes of bright yellow, orange and even green mixed in with the deep red and near black of others. The iron work and stone dragons on some of the buildings look medieval. It is not easy to distinguish between businesses and homes. Although there are modern cars parked on the street and occasionally driving down the road, the feeling of this place is one of immense age. The roads around me rise and fall in gentle flows and steep drops and change from wide tree lined main roads to dark sheltered creepy laneways. I can just make out the dark outline of mountains surrounding the town, speckled with lights coming from the inset houses. The greenery which surrounds and invades this unusual place should give it a feeling of warmth and life, but there is a sense of unease in the air tonight that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

People pass by periodically but none of them notice me here in the shadows. I have no idea how long I sit waiting in the cold; it feels like an eternity. A woman emerges from the shadows across the street and walks slowly towards me. I think she is looking at me but I can't be sure.

"Do you need some help?" she asks in an accent I don't recognise.

"I think I'm lost," I answer truthfully. As she moves past a nearby building the lights shining through the window light her face. She is beautiful in every meaning of the word. Long wavy violent red locks fall down her back and frame her perfect ivory completion. Her lips are full, red, almost pouting and her glorious high cheek bones are accentuated by the pink hue of her cheeks. I am reminded of old Hollywood stars with their wavy hair and slightly unfocused beauty. Her face appears to be kind and gentle but there is something dark in her almond shaped eyes. If I was on a movie set I would expect her to be dressed in frills and silk, instead she wears a long skirt and a low lying top fitted so tight I am amazed she can breathe. Her breasts flow over slightly but it only emphasises her slim hourglass figure. A long deep green cape flows behind her as she walks.

"I am Victoria," her voice purrs. "Why don't you come with me and we will see if we can make you found." I am not sure if I trust Victoria but what choice do I have and I feel drawn to her. I rise slowly off the stoop and walk across the street to meet her.

"That wasn't so hard," she comments with an angelic smile. Victoria leads me through the cobble stone streets humming a quiet tune to herself.

"What is your name?" she enquires after a few moments.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Bella." My Australian accent sounds so harsh next to her alluring voice.

"Bella, how sweet. My bright shining Bella," she murmurs. I don't like the way she says 'my', I feel as though I am some kind of possession to her.

"Where are we going?" I ask, searching for answers again.

"I live just a little way up here with my family," she says pointing into the dark distance.

"Where are we?" I wonder aloud.

"This is Sighisoara."

"Sighisoara," I mutter to myself. "Why does that sound strangely familiar?"

Victoria giggles darkly, "Maybe you are a fan of the horror stories?"

"In my teenage year's maybe," I answer. Wasn't everyone?

She is still smiling at me as she explains, "My town is of international legend. Dracula's father used to live here, or so they say."

"Really?" I breathe in awe.

"Yes, yes. Dracula's castle is just a few towns away over there," she says, pointing out over the mountains. I follow her finger but the night is too dark for me to make out much more than fifty meters down the road. I wonder if that is the reason I ended up here? When Edward was talking he compared himself to a vampire. I must have had vampires on my mind when I shifted; aside from other things of course. And what better vampire is there than Count Dracula himself? That means I'm in Romania! For someone who never travels, I'm sure getting around today.

I begin to study the town around me a little more closely now. There is a certain vampire-ish quality to most things. Or maybe vampires have a Sighisoara quality about them, whichever came first. Somehow the town seems bright and friendly but at the same time there is a hidden warning. There are too many dark nooks hiding around the brightly coloured buildings. The colours of the buildings screams vampire as well with their pale white and deep red. The dragons in the doorways seem to be threatening, not protective and the way the trees loom over the walkways makes me feel like they are slowly closing in on me. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end again.

As Victoria leads me through the town the streets begin turning into smaller laneways. Deeper drains are built into the middle of the cobblestone roads and the buildings grow taller, shadowing the entire street. We walk through a low narrow tunnel over the road and I can feel her eyes on me. Although I don't know how she can see anything in the darkness I sense that she is staring at me, searching my soul. I take a sharp breath as the realisation hits: It feels like Edward. Could Victoria be one of us? Could she be a guide too? I'm not sure how to ask her these questions without sounding like a lunatic. As we exit the tunnel I turn and smile at her, it reminds me that my cheek is still a bit tender.

"Here we are," she purrs before I have a chance to say anything. She gestures with her arm like a hostess in a game show and for the second time today I have to retrieve my jaw from the floor.

In front of us is a huge square white house, three stories high with pale green tinting around the windows and door. The house sits on a small hill which is framed by a neat high concrete fence with one wrought iron gate in the middle. Light shines softly through the curtains from the huge windows on every floor. It reminds me of the glorious mansions of Jane Austin novels. Can places like this really exist? Victoria opens the gate and holds it open for me, signalling for me to enter.

She takes my hand as she passes and leads the way up the long row of steps to the front door. The moon shines on the lawn around the house, perfect in every detail although there no plants to speak of. Why would you need any with such a picture perfect house to look at? She reaches out and opens one of the magnificent double doors at the entrance and leads me through into the entrance hall. There is a huge wooden polished staircase in front of us leading to the top stories and large oak doors to the left and right of us.

"I'm home," Victoria calls in her musical tone.

"Hello darling," another beautifully accented voice answers from my left. I look around to see a tall handsome man coming out of the doorway to greet us. His clothing is similar to Victorias, dated but extremely elegant with fitted slacks and a light cream shirt. His hair is pale, long and tied in a neat ponytail. He has the same ivory complexion and rosy pink cheeks as Victoria.

"James!" she exclaims. "You're up sweetheart. I've brought a little surprise home." She gestures towards me with her free hand. His eyes pass over me appraisingly.

"Oh darling," he says coming to her side, "The things you find in the night."

I feel uncomfortable when they kiss with a passionate embrace as she is still holding my hand. I study my feet and note the lovely texture of the rug which runs from the front door up the stairs. I try to discretely prise my hand free but her grasp is strong. With a long deep sigh they separate.

"Shall we?" James asks pointing towards the door he has just come through.

"Let's," Victoria responds enthusiastically, pulling me along begin her.

She leads me into an immense long sitting room of various shades of cream. There is a fire burning low under a marble mantle at the far end of the room which is encircled by pale chairs that don't quite match, yet blend in together beautifully. In front of us is a magnificently crafted ancient mahogany desk with a tall green leather chair perched beneath it. Three crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling lighting the room with a soft pearl glow. Under the middle chandelier in the centre of the room sits another mahogany piece, a bar of sorts almost overflowing with carafes filled with different coloured liquids.

"Shall we have a night cap?" Victoria suggests. James goes to the bar and pulls the stop from a carafe containing an amber fluid.

"No," says Victoria sweetly. "Let's have some red tonight."

James gives her an enquiring look before replacing the stop and pulling another bottle from underneath the bar. He lays out three glasses and proceeds to fill each. Victoria releases my hand after guiding me to one of the chairs surrounding the fireplace. I seat myself into the leather and continue looking around the room. In moment she returns and places a crystal goblet into my hands.

"Drink," she insists, toasting her glass to me.

I cautiously take a sip feeling the warmth of the burgundy liquid slide down my throat. I have always preferred red wine to white but this is nothing I have ever tasted before. It's not sweet or wooden or tart. I can't really taste anything but I feel the warmth of it spread throughout my body as I take another larger gulp. James and Victoria exchange an appreciative glance before drinking from their own glasses.

"Now Bella," Victoria says after a few moments, "why don't you stay here tonight and we will see if we can set things right in the morning?" I know I should be more concerned about getting home but I feel so warm and comfortable right now. Even though I'm sure it's only early afternoon I have to stifle a yawn escaping my lips.

"That's what I thought," she says to me with a gentle smile. "Finish your drink and I will go and get a bed ready for you."

She glides out of the room with such grace I am almost hypnotised by her movements. It's not until James moves into my line of sight that I remember I am not alone in this magical setting. He seats himself on the chair opposite me and raises his glass towards me. I do the same before taking the final sip. I feel my eyelids begin to flutter and my grasp on the glass loosens. Before I realise, James has his arms beneath me and is carrying me up the stairs. I look around me seeing everything in such detail. I feel as though I can taste the air around me, the almost dusty smell coming off his clothing and I can sense the texture in the painted walls and ancient carpet. I look into his eyes one last time before I can hold of sleep any longer.

"Sunshine?" I can hear mums soft voice echoing around the room. "You must wake up my darling." I don't want to dream tonight. My body and mind fight to keep me asleep.

"Sunshine! Bella! Listen to me now!" she yells at me.

"Go away" I murmur. I just want to be left alone. I want to sleep. I need sleep.

"It's not safe. You have to leave."

"Leave me alone," I grumble. This dream mother will not listen to me. I feel her warm touch on my shoulders shaking me, but I still refuse to open my eyes, even if I had the strength to do so.

"You're not real. Leave me in peace, please. Just go back to where you came from." I can hear her sharp intake of breath as I roll over on the bed. How can my words hurt a dream?

"Please," she begs in a quiet whisper. "Don't make the same mistake I did. Go home to your daughter, to Charlie, to Edward. Go home Bella. Please."

"You are not real. You are not my mother. Leave me alone." I say burying my face into the pillow and letting sleep overcome me again.

"Please…" I hear the distant echo as the room falls silent again.

* * *

**A/N**

**Look up Sighisoara 1997 on You Tube and you will get the full impact of this wonderful town. I know I have kind of shoved a lot at you all over the past week, but it may be a little longer for the next chapter as it is still in the making. Please keep the reviews, alerts and advice coming. It keeps me going and I love logging on and seeing everyone reading. Hawkings, I love your stories they give me some much. To all the others who have added me as a fave; THANK YOU SO MUCH! If you like it, pass the word! If you don't, tell me and it can only get better. Thankyou everyone and I will update as soon as I can.**

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	13. Beautiful Breakfast

I wake in an enormous four poster bed surrounded by white fluffy pillows and a deep red doona that seems to encase my body. I am so comfortable, a little too comfortable. I peek under the doona and realise that my clothes have changed. I am no longer in my jeans; instead I wear a delicate blue lace night dress that barley hides my naked form beneath it. I pull the covers tightly around my body, hoping it was Victoria who changed me and that there were not witnesses. I cannot see my clothing anywhere; instead I notice a matching long silk dressing gown hung over the end of the bed. I crawl cautiously towards it, making sure I am alone and throw it quickly over my shoulders.

Once covered I tip toe out of the bed and examine the room around me. Again I am reminded of Jane Austen novels. This room is a perfect period piece filled with turn of the century furniture from the writing desk to the bed, from the daybed which sits beneath one of the ceiling high windows to the curtains that frame those windows around me. I must be in a corner room as there are two windows on two sides of me. I peek through the delicate lace curtains of one of them a notice a soft white carpet covering on the ground below me. It has been snowing overnight yet this house seems wonderfully warm around me. The enchanting town I appeared in last night does not seem so threatening in daylight.

There is a soft tapping on the bedroom door behind me before Victoria enters so quietly that I wonder if her feet even touch the ground. I try not to stare as I take in her true beauty in the daylight. She is dressed much like me in a silk dressing gown of deep red but it hangs open slightly to reveal a matching silk night dress. Everything is fitted in the most alluring way, hugging curves here, revealing delicate soft flesh there, but never too much to appear smutty.

"How did you sleep?" she enquires.

"Magically." I answer with a smile. I feel her glance flow over my body, almost caressing me with her eyes and I tighten the dressing gown discretely.

"Come downstairs for breakfast Bella," she murmurs sweetly. "I would love you to meet the rest of the family."

I do one last sweep of the room with my eyes, hoping to spot my clothes somewhere and catching my reflection in the full length mirror on the far wall. My hair isn't the normal hay stack I usually wake up with. Instead it flows softly down my back with a hint of the soft curls I have been so desperately missing. The hollow look to my face appears to be lessened as well, I think I'm almost radiating. I want one of these mirrors at home.

I feel like an elephant as my footsteps echo off the walls while following Victoria's silent steps down the staircase. I was sleeping on the third floor and my mind shudders as I think about James having to heave my heavy body that far. God I hope he wasn't the one to change me.

I still feel so attuned to everything around me. I can almost see the brushstrokes on the varnished banister as my hand slides over it. I wonder if this feeling has something to do with shifting. Edward said my senses could become more prominent. Edward: I wonder where he is and why he hasn't come to find me. Thinking of him reminds me of the real world out there, well, what has now become my slightly skewed definition of the real world. I need to get home to my baby girl and dad somehow.

"Here we are," Victoria says interrupting my thoughts. I follow her through the doorway opposite the sitting room on the ground floor into another magnificent room. The six people already seated casually around a huge mahogany dining table raise their faces to meet mine as I enter the room. How can so many beautiful people belong to the same family? It's just not fair.

"Come. Sit my Bella," Victoria purrs, ushering me to a vacant chair next to the head of the table. James is seated beside me as I take my place and gives me a small nod and smile. Please tell me it wasn't you who changed me I beg with my eyes as I look at him. His smile turns into a full grin as he turns to talk to the person on his other side. It's a ravishing woman who has the same pale skin and pink hue in her cheeks although her hair is light brown and straight as an arrow, falling just below her jaw line.

"I am Jane," she says leaning around James to look at me. I nod in acknowledgment. It's now that I realise all eyes are on me and I look into my lap, self-consciously tightening the ribbon around my waist again.

"We have been talking about you Bella," Jane states and I feel the blush flow across my face.

"Be nice Jane," James says in a mock stern voice. She simply giggles and takes a sip from her glass. I look around the table and note the lavish meal laid out before us. Toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes, croissants, jam, cream, maple syrup, muffins, scones and every other breakfast dish you could possible imagine cover the table on beautiful crystal serving plates. There is a glass of pomegranate coloured juice in front of each of us and a jug of it in the middle of the table almost like it is an exquisite centre piece.

"Bella," Victoria begins as she takes her place at the head of the table, "you know James and now you have met Jane. This is Laurent," she says motioning to the man seated opposite me. He nods quietly. "This is Rosalie," she continues down the line of the table. "And Sophia and Alec," she concludes as they all nod towards me. I smile quietly at each of them as they are introduced. They are all still wearing their pyjamas for better use of the word. Each of the women wear silk dressing gowns much like mine but in different shades of red and pink and purple covering silk or lace nigh dresses. Rosalie's pink gown hangs entirely open exposing her thin lace night dress beneath. I try not to stare as I watch her chest rise and fall slowly as she talks with Laurent next to her, caressing his face gently. I can see everything. The full round shape of her breasts and the dark lines her nipples make through the barely there material. How can anyone feel so comfortable in their own skin with so many others in the room? I blink quickly and turn away.

Further around the table I notice Alec wearing only pyjama pants and I feel my eyes linger over his ashen skin that clings provocatively to the swollen muscles underneath. He is not a hugely muscular man, but there is definite definition and strength there that can not be denied. I try to stop my gaze sliding over his sculptured body, but I can't help it. It's like my feelings before with the painted walls and textured wood. I can see the way his skin flexes with each breath and the tiny lines of his veins pumping blood through his system.

"A toast to our new found friend," Victoria calls to the table raising her juice in front of her.

"Our friend!" they all call rising their glasses. A second too late I raise mine as well and take a quick sip. I feel so embarrassed being toasted amongst this gathering of beautiful beings. The juice feels sweet and warm as it flows down my throat and my feelings of unease slowly slide away with it.

"Eat my lovelies," Victoria orders as she places her glass on the table.

And with that call the room is filled with the clinking of cutlery, the filling of plates and quiet chatter around this bizarre breakfast setting. I take another gulp from my juice before filling my plate with all that is in front of me. I feel ravenous and realise that it must have been at least a day since I ate anything of substance.

My tastebuds work overtime as I experience breakfast like I never have before. I can feel every tiny breadcrumb from the toast in my mouth. I can taste the fire it must have been cooked over, sensing the slight hint of smoke within its texture. The scrambled eggs feel so smooth and fluffy as they lay on my tongue, soaking their flavour into my tastebuds before I finally swallow and take another sip of my juice. The bacon feels crispy, again releasing its smoky scent and mixing with the salty juices and a hint of sweetness. James refills my juice which I hadn't even realised was empty. I smile a thankyou and take another gulp. I have to stifle quiet groans of pleasure as everything tastes like heaven in my mouth.

After two more glasses of juice and enough food to embarrass me I sit back quietly and watch the meal continue in front of me.

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**A/N**

**Thankyou for the reviews, you guys are the best! I know the names in this chapter may give away the good and the bad, but there is always room for interpretation. Keep reading and let me know how I'm going.**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**

**.**


	14. Perfect Beauty

**A/N**

**I just picked up a major error with the names. James was listed as Ryan. I am so sorry for the confusion and that it took me so long to pick it up. Things should make a little more sense now. Sorry guys.**

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I can't tell how this family is related. They are all beautiful, with perfect skin in different shades of pale and pink flushed cheeks but the resemblances stop there. Yes James and Rosalie have blonde hair, but his is pale and straight where as hers is golden and flowing. Her eyes are deep green; his are a hazel brown colour. She looks like she is twenty two or twenty three and James appears closer to thirty. Alec looks around thirty five and has short cropped dark brown hair and piercing blue grey eyes. Jane has dead straight pale brown hair and dark brown eyes that appear small against her high set prominent cheek bones. I guess she is twenty seven or so. Sophia has black hair as well, but it is thick and wavy, framing her full face. There is a small mole to the right of her delicate pink lips. Give the beauty a beauty spot, I think to myself. Sophia must be in her early twenty's as well, but I can't guess any closer than that. Laurent looks like he is close to twenty as well. His features are still so boyish that he could be on either side of the mark. His hair is a pale golden brown and its messy style reminds me of Edward. His deep blue eyes appear troubled and… sad. He appears completely mesmerised by Victoria although she barley acknowledges him.

Victoria, the apparent head of the family. I am sure she is only thirty, like me, but it is clear from the way everyone acts around her that she is the one with the power here. The way she talks, the unwavering confidences she excludes shows me it was an easy decision for her to become the maternal figure here, but I wonder what happened to their parents. Maybe it was a bad family situation and they all moved out together to get away from it. None of them are at an age when you would still expect them to be living at home, although they are, like me, generation Y and we don't seem to ever leave home according to the statistics. However Laurent looks like he should still be under his mothers' protection. There is something so young and fragile about him. I feel my motherly instincts take over and I have to hold back an urge to go and shelter him. I have no idea what I would be shielding him from though.

As I search his face he excuses himself from the table and leaves the room. Soon he is followed by Jane and Rosalie. A few minutes later James flashes me that full knowing smile and exits the room just as Laurent enters and whispers something in Victoria's ear. Even dressed he looks so young. He wears baggy faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt which makes him look like he should be in an advertisement for Calvin Kline instead of a mansion in Romania. Both Sophia and Alec turn to look at the exchange between Laurent and Victoria with questioning looks on their perfect faces.

"Come my darling Bella," Victoria purrs rising from her seat, taking my hand and brushing Laurent aside. "Time to prepare for the day."

We pass the now dressed Rosalie in the door way as we head back out to the entrance hall. She looks like a cat walk model in dark tight fitted jeans and a v neck knitted sweater that looks like it was created just for her curvy shape. I feel all eyes on me as Victoria leads me back up the grand staircase.

"Bella," Jane smiles at me as we pass her on the first landing. I look back over my shoulders at her as we continue up the next flight. Her hair is set in sleek perfect lines following the shape of her pointed jaw with the fringe sitting just above her sculptured eyebrows forming another perfect line across her brow. It shines almost golden in the sunlight coming through the window next to her. Her skirt is a pale grey and fitted from the top of her hips, over her thighs and stopping neatly just below her knees. The cream ruffled shirt she completes the outfit with brings with it visions of secretaries from the nineteen thirties crime movies. I expect a surly detective with a low slung hat and cigarette hanging out of his mouth to emerge from the hall next to her and mumble about a dastardly case. These people are so intriguing.

A little voice in the back of my head tells me I should be worried, afraid, home, I'm not quite sure what, but I just can't force myself to be anything but content. I've been running on auto pilot so long that I just let it be. Victoria takes me back to my room and I spot my clothes laid out on my bed, freshly cleaned and pressed. I feel a little awkward as I dress in my old jeans and shirt compared to the rest of them in all their splendour.

I sneak a peek out the window again and see that it is snowing lightly. I am completely mesmerised as I watch the tiny flakes float past my window. Snow at home seems to come belting down in violent windy storms. Here it is like a magical dance with millions of performers. I feel a smile spread across my face as I begin humming a tune I don't know and swaying with the snow flakes making my way out the room.

My hand slides down the smooth banister as I tip toe down stairs. Victoria gives me a warm smile from the writing desk as I enter the front room. James is standing by her side, dressed much the same as last night in fitted pale slacks and an off white shirt. His pale hair is sleek and flawless tied in the tight pony tail and his hand rests gently on her left shoulder.

"Would you mind if I took a walk outside?" I ask quietly.

"Snow is wonderful isn't it," Alec says from behind me. I feel my breath quicken, I hadn't realised he was so close to me. I nod, looking at my feet, fighting the blush rising on my face.

"Feel free to do as you please Bella. Our home is your home. Please," Victoria says gesturing towards the front door.

I feel a kind of elation as I walk the grounds, looking back at my footprints in the snow. I can't remember snow being so soft and pure and… visible. I can see each snow flake nestled up against each other as my size eight feet pushes them closer together. Why am I here? I don't care. Shouldn't I be doing something? I don't care. Are there people waiting for me? I really don't care. Wait: I do care. Renesmee. Dad. Edward. Why didn't he come and find me? _Silly Bella. You are one of many; remember?_ Dad? Nessie? What about them? I need to get home. _You don't want to leave this place do you?_ What is that voice? _Stay. Have everything you desire._ Everything I desire? Edward. Edward warned me. _Aren't you happy Bella? Don't you want to stay with us?_

"Stop talking to me!" I shout, but there is no one around to hear.

I need to get home. I stop at the boundary of the house, looking at the concrete fence and focus. I focus every ounce of my being on home, dads place, Nessie and dad and their smiles, happy faces, loving embrace, complete acceptance of me and everything that I am and will become: home. I hear a soft meow outside the gate and follow the sound instinctively. As soon as I feel the brush against my ankle I know Adelaide is here to help me.

"Hello lovely," I murmur patting her soft fur. "What are you doing here?"

She blends into the snow almost perfectly, except for her bright golden eyes which look at me like a stern parent. I know I've done wrong, but I can't help but smile at her presence.

"She will take you home Bella," I hear the distant echo of my mothers voice.

Before I have the chance to breathe Adelaide brushes against my leg and I feel the cold of the snow melt away into the soft grass of home. Adelaide looks over her shoulder at a figure behind me. Edward.

"Where have you been?" he shouts at me.

"I got lost." What is it to him?

"Bella" I feel myself melt as he breathes my name. "I tried to find you. All night I tried, but you were gone." I watch as he shakes his head in confusion.

"I'm here now. Thanks to Adelaide." I note nodding towards her retreating form.

"How did she find you? Who was with her?"

"She was by herself." I state. I think she was by herself. Did I hear mum again? Why can I not be sure of anything?

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**A/N**

**Finally the return of Edward and a differnt type of Laurent than we are all used to. Please R&R and thanks for reading!**

**Cuddles**


	15. New Sight

"Look, I think I should go inside. Dad and Nessie will be worried," I mumble into my hands as I turn towards the house.

"Can I come and see you later?" he asks quietly behind me.

"Sure," I state, trying to hide the joy in my voice. I know he is gone as soon as the words are out of my mouth but I don't care. I'm home and Edward wants to come and see me again.

It is around 6:30 in the morning when I creep in the back door. I pop my head into Nessie's room and I can't help but smile as I see her curled up under the covers with her thumb in her mouth. She is still my little baby. I'm refreshed from my full nights sleep at the mansion. And, thanks again to the hospitality of Victoria I have eaten the best breakfast I've had in ages, possibly ever so there is nothing to do but potter quietly in my room waiting to hear some other signs of life within the house.

There is so much of my childhood still in this room. My favourite old teddy bear sits on a shelf of my desk looking so sad and worn. The years of cuddles have rubbed away most of his yellow fur and one eye is missing, as always with such old teddies. I think he was originally one of my long lost aunties. When I hold him in my arms it feels just like old times. I remember feeling guilty about leaving him here when I moved to Tassie, but no one over twenty should still sleep with a teddy bear. That was what I told myself anyway, but instead of replacing him on the shelf, I return him to pride of place in the middle of my bed. He will sleep with me again tonight, not matter how childish it seems.

Some old cassettes are scattered among the draws of my desk and on my dresser. I never listen to them anymore, but I've never felt the need to throw them out either. I scan the titles, giggling with embarrassment at my previous taste in music. 'Hit Pix 88', quite self explanatory and horrible. Flashes of 'Stutter rap' surge into my mind and I giggle to myself at the knowledge of this song and its lyrics after all these years. What was the bands name again? Morris minor and the majors. I can't believe I can still remember it. I put the cassette to the side and pick up a bright yellow one from near by. 'Let's hear it for the girls', all female acts including the likes of Samantha Fox and Bananarama. Classic. I have actually heard some of the songs off this one re-done in recent years. Next, 'Europe – The final countdown'. Oh I was in love with the lead singer with his long blonde frizz of hair and really tight black pants. No wonder he could reach all those high notes. That was the first cassette I brought with my own money. 'Warrant – Cherry Pie' was the first CD single.

In all honesty, I still like Europe and Warrant, well Cherry Pie at least. Although I haven't heard them in so many years I'm sure if I put them into my stereo now I could sing along with every word. It's a totally embarrassing thought to admit, but I'm alone here in my bedroom with no witnesses but my own ears so what does it matter? I can't help snickering a little as I put the Europe cassette into the machine and hit play. Take me back to the eighties! The wurrung of the tape turning fills the room for a few seconds before the first song begins to play and instantly I am humming along, smiling yet again at the stupidity of it.

At least I don't have any old clothes left here. That would be really embarrassing. RaRa skirts, you know the ones with three layers of ruffled material, and belly tops from the eighties, primary school times and kind of understandable, dark jeans, t-shirts and shirts from my time as a semi Goth. I was never full blown Goth with the make-up and surly looks. I just wasn't very confident and it was easier not to stand out when you are wearing dark clothes. Then it was really short skirts and opaque tights with more dark coloured tops. That was a little fun. You could be sexy and sultry without really showing anything. I think I had a lot of fun in that time of clothing but dad hated it.

There was a time in the middle when I dressed a little like mum but I don't think it was on purpose or for any fad. Hyper-coloured tops were in if I remember correctly, the ones that changed colour with heat and they all ended up looking tie-died in the end. I remember wearing my own home made tie-died clothing. I had found a huge roll of material and began making myself clothing. Dad's cop salary didn't afford us many luxuries but I am quite a good sewer, so I went to work. Because the cotton was pure white I had a lot of fun changing it into the varying colours of the spectrum and blending. Three long skirts and who knows how many shirts. It was comfortable things I would change out of my school uniform into when I got home each day. When I dressed it was almost like saying 'I'm home and everything as it should be.' I never wore these clothes anywhere but here, but here is home and it was, and is now where I am at peace. I am amazed how many memories have been pushed to the back of my mind. Not forgotten, never forgotten, more like stored for later reflection.

Still humming along to the slowly turning music I lie down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I see the orange glow of the low lying sun shine through a single strand of cobweb that hangs down from the roof. The slow gushing of wind from my breath causes it to sway monetarily before gliding back into its original position. From the corner of my eye I can see a tiny drop of condensation on the window creating a kaleidoscope of rainbows within it's self. Dust moats dance around each other performing a delicate waltz in the air, slowly settling back towards the windowsill from whence they came. A parade of ants make their way along the glass, their tiny feet marching in a perfect rehearsed rhythm. Staying in formation they move around the droplet of rainbow and return to their original line, heading onwards with purpose. The leaves of the eucalypt just to the left of my window move in the light morning breeze and I hear them rustling against one and another above the music coming from my stereo. I see a tiny brown bird land on one of the higher branches of the tree with a quiet snap, curling its sharp yellow claws around the delicate stem of its perch and nuzzling its matching yellow beak underneath its feathers.

I have seen all this without looking away from the floating cobweb swaying with steady breathing. So much detail is filling my eyes and ears. I feel my brain being flooded with information; however it does not overwhelm me. It is like someone has removed the dark sunglasses and ear plugs and allowed me to witness the world for the first time. It hasn't occurred as easily or intensely as it did earlier in the mansion, but maybe if I learn to relax and allow my brain to accept the new information I will always have the joy of seeing everything on such unbelievable exquisite detail.

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**A/N**

**Dont worry my lovelies, Edward is coming soon. I just had to show a little about what is happening to our girl Bella. Thanks again to Hawkins for picking up my mistakes, I am ever yours, to Dragon1974UK you rock my world, and to my babe Unrequited Passions, thankyou and please update your story soon (or are you going back to blackmail. lol). Please R & R, it's what keeps me going!**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**


	16. What am I thinking

Breakfast with dad is a slightly strained affair. I had waited in my room until I think I had analysed every nook and cranny, pillow, toy and painted section and seen everything with my new magical vision. As phenomenal as it all is, there is only so much time you can spend in your bedroom and I was becoming fidgety. He appeared shortly after I sat down at the kitchen bench with my morning coffee. He was giving me 'that' look. You know the one when you get the feeling you are in a hell of a lot of trouble, but they don't say a thing to you? I almost wish he had come out yelling. Yelling would have been so much better than 'the look'.

"Sorry I wasn't home when you guys got back," I say breaking the silence.

"A call would have been nice," he grumbles.

"I know and I really am sorry. I caught up with some… friends and couldn't get to a phone." Well, I am telling the truth.

"Humph," is the only reply I get.

We sit in silence again and I look at my coffee. Coffee has always been my morning drink but today it just isn't working for me. I crave something different although I have no idea what it is. I look up to see dad staring at me.

"What is it?" I feel like I've got snot hanging out of my nose and he doesn't know how to tell me.

"Nothing Bells. I was just thinking about your mum. You remind me a lot of her." He smiles weakly before grabbing the morning paper and flipping to the sports section. Men and the sports section! I will never understand it. I wonder why he was thinking about mum. I wonder how often he does.

"Mind if I steal Nessie again?" he asks without raising his head from the page.

"It should be fine. What have you two got in mind for today?"

"Harry and Sue," dad giggles.

I give dad a playful back hand to the arm and laugh with him. Trying to play the angry father figure when all he really wanted was an excuse to turn my baby into the monster he loves so much! I gave up going to Harry and Sues long ago when I realised there was nothing in this world I could do to stop them spoiling her. They love her almost as much as dad and they didn't have any children of their own so who am I to ruin their fun, especially now that dad is around to deal with the aftermath of a hyper kid coming down from a sugar rush.

"I'm a little restless dad," I begin.

"I know, I know," he cuts me off. "Go for your walk, I'll take care of Nessie when she wakes." He shakes his head side to side, waving me off with his hand as I leave my stool and head for the black door.

Restless, that's how I described myself to dad, but if I'm so restless what am I doing laying here in the long grass of the far back paddock? It's not like I'm looking at anything. In fact my eyes are closed, but I am listening. I am fascinated by the clarity of each and every sound. The creaks of the old tree branches moving with the gentle breeze are accompanied by the soft undertone of the highway hum. I can hear the difference between a hatchback and a four wheel drive. The trucks with their mass of tyres and air breaks are so easy to distinguish, yet it is all so musical to me. Grass makes the strangest noise I can recollect hearing. As it bends and each blade rubs against another it creates an almost static moan along with a sloshing noise as if it were an electrically charged water balloon. It's quite bizarre. The precision of a marching army echoing in my ear turns out to be another tail of ants walking along a piece of bark just above my head. Fascinating.

"Hello."

"Holy Shit!" I cry as I look around for the source of the voice, as if I didn't know already. Edward is sitting cross legged on the grass not a foot from where I lay. The sleaves of his pale grey shirt are rolled up to his elbows, which rest gently on his knees. His chin is perched on his hands and he is leaning forward like he is studying something; me?

A soft smile forms on his lips as he says, "I'm sorry Bella. I didn't mean to scare you."

"How long have you been sitting there," I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.

"A while. You looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you. I like to watch you." Why did I always feel like such an idiot around him?

"I wish you wouldn't." I murmur.

"Sorry," he states, but something in his tone tells me he isn't going to stop.

"Um, so, what are you doing here?" Not that I want you to leave, I add in my mind. Oh crap. He can't read minds can he?

"I asked if I could come and visit, remember?" How could I forget?

"Yeah, I remember," I mumble lying back onto the grass, putting my arms over my face to fight the expected rising blush. Why do I have to blush all the time? I hear him move next to me and when I sneak a look he is lying o his stomach, face still in his hands looking at me again.

"What!" I cry hiding my face again.

"What are you thinking?" Edward wants to know what I am thinking!

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**A/N**

**He's back! I told you it wouldn't be long! Yes its two in one day. Thankyou to everyone who reads, please review! Ok I will stop begging now. I forgot to give a shout out to supermanisgay, thanks for the reviews babe. Enjoy and let me know what you think. That wasn't begging was it? LOL**

**Thanks for reading**

**Cuddles**


	17. How old!

"What are you thinking?" Edward wants to know what I am thinking!

I lay here in the long grass trying to verbalise what I am thinking. I don't think I am thinking anything. Earlier today I was feeling, now I am listening. But now Edward is here with me and he wants to know. I close my eyes again, moving my hands down to my sides and attempt to concentrate on something so that the next words out of my mouth wont be something pointless. A gust of wind blows my hair across my face and before I have a chance to brush it away I feel his cool fingers gently tuck the stray strands behind my ear. Goose bumps greet his touch and a shiver rolls down my spine

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I forget my touch is cold, unwelcome."

"No. No. Its fine" His touch is more than welcome. Breathe Bella. He chuckles quietly at some unspoken joke before sighing deeply.

"Are your senses hyper sensitive?" I ask.

"In what way Bella?" He cocks his head to the side to look at me more intently.

"Do you see and hear things differently from normal people?"

"I don't know anymore," he chuckles again. "I have been this way for so long I barley remember what I used to be like."

"I thought you were twenty seven. How long have you been a shifter?" Confusion strikes again.

"I was changed over two hundred years ago."

"What!" I stutter sitting up and looking at Edward, almost expecting him to have changed into a wrinkled old man. "Edward… I… How… What…" I am completely lost for words.

"Bella," he says slowly raising himself to sit cross legged in front of me. "Remember my heart does not beat and I do not age." His voice is so gentle, like soft heavenly music washing over my body.

"It's kinda hard to forget you know, but I still think of you as twenty seven and aging each day. You seem so normal to me." It is true. I had wished he could be a little older so that my infatuation with him wasn't verging on the side of creepy, but not two hundred years! Is a two hundred and something year age gap between a man and a woman creepy? He is the older one here so it's not like I have a toy boy or anything and neither of us are children in any way so there is nothing illegal there. Listen to yourself Bella. You are talking like there is actually something between you. Wake up woman!

"Hello? Bella?" Edward is calling me, waving his hand in front of my face. I must have zoned out for a while because he appears concerned.

"I'm sorry. I just got lost in my own fantasy world there for a bit. Sorry Edward." I love the way his name rolls off my tongue.

"I forget how much you don't know," He smiles brushing another strand of hair from my face. "I have been with you for so long that I assume you know everything."

"I don't get why you hung around for so long though," I wonder.

"What do you mean?"

"Eight years you have been watching me," I state looking away from him into my lap as I cross my legs to mirror him and anticipating the flood of blood to my face at the very thought. "Why didn't you ever make yourself known?"

"You were not ready for this world Bella."

"I know that, but in some way you could have let me know that you were around. Not as a shifter, but as a friend or something. Couldn't you?" I peak a look at him from behind my lashes. His body twitches infinitesimally before he pulls a blade of grass and begins breaking it into smaller pieces. I hear the sound of tiny water balloons erupting with each break and the flowing of a microscopic river as moisture from the grass trickles onto Edward's fingers.

"I had thought about it," he whispers. "But I am not sure I know how to interact with people who aren't shifters.'

"But I am one. Now at least." My voice sounds so pleading. Edward flicks the remnants of the grass to the side and looks me in the eyes. Whoa. Focus Bella!

"I have been this way, living in this secret world for so many years. Here I know all there is, out there… It is foreign to me." A touch of sadness appears in his beautiful dark eyes.

"Is it really that long?" I ask quietly.

"Yes."

"How old are you? Really I mean."

"I was born in the late 1300's" Holy shit!

"You said you were changed over two hundred years ago! That is way over two hundred years ago! That's like…" My brain can't do the maths to catch up.

"Nearly seven hundred years." Edward states.

Ok Bella. Put your eyeballs back into their sockets and relax. This is Edward. You know things are a little strange when it comes to him. Ok more than a little, but it's Edward.

"Wow," I breathe. "I mean really, wow! You must have seen some things"

"Yes. And no." A small grin appears across his face as though he is remembering some interesting parts of his past. What a past that must have been.

"Do you realise you are older than this country? Well, since the first fleet came and took it over I mean." Way to go Bella. Now for the next history lesson. I am such an idiot.

"The first fleet landed in eighteen eighty eight in the new world discovered by Caption James Cook. A land to be filled with convicts. Are you descended from convicts?" He asks as a quiet chuckle breaks through his perfect lips.

"Shut up," I cry giving him a playful back hand to the chest. "Although I did once have a friend who's relative was sent here for 'relations' with a sheep. That is really gross."

And with that we are both laughing. Our voices mixed together in the soft summer breeze sound like a raucous symphony. Bass and alto moving together to form the perfect harmony.

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**A/N**

**Hello my wonderful readers. If this is a little messy, I'm sorry. It's written and then posted (with a few adjustments) and it is nearly three in the morning for me. To my lovely readers who review THANKYOU! You guys are the best. To everyone else, please just review 'Yes' or 'No" and let me know how I am going. 100 plus hit and only 4 reviews? I love you all for reading anyway. I am feeling the love tonight (this morning) aren't I? LOL Once again THANKYOU!**

**Cuddles**


	18. Craving

**Hello to my lovely readers. None of you picked up on my major fault near the end of my last chapter! It's ok I'm an aussie and it took me two weeks to spot it. And now for my history lesson :) the First Fleet arrived here in seventeen eighty eight not 1888. Yeah, I know, I'm a bit of a nufty. Anyway, this one is short and sweet. It was the only good place to stop the chapter otherwise i would be going on forever. Hope you like it.**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**

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It takes a few minutes for the image of 'relations' with sheep to disappear from my mind and the laughter to quieten.

"Ok," I say catching my breath. "How long have you been a shifter?"

"Most of my existence. I was changed when I was twenty seven. That's why I always say I am that age."

"But why did you tell me you were changed over two hundred years ago?" I don't understand.

"Please don't take this the wrong way Bella, but you seem easily shocked." A mischievous smile appears on his lips. I can't deny the statement though. "I was changed over two hundred years ago. It just happens to be closer to seven hundred years ago. I thought it would be easier for you to grasp with a lesser figure."

"Oh." Idiocy strikes me again.

"I feel I know you so well," he says in a caring tone. "I try to nurse you into this world as gently as possible but you always know the questions to ask and I do not seem to be able to deny you anything."

"I thought I was just asking the obvious." I smile.

Edward's smile falters as he whispers, "Oh."

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry Bella but I have to go."

"Why? What's wrong?" My voice sounds panicky.

"It's nothing to worry about. Another shifter needs my help. It happens." He sounds remorseful at the thought of leaving which lifts my sprits some what.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"It is just a feeling. It is like a craving, a need for something that you simply must have. It is such an intense sensation that it is impossible to ignore. I know those in my care so well that I am able to distinguish between each by their force alone." He appears quite proud of this fact. "I will come and see you when I can. I liked our talk today."

We both stand and he gently places his hand against my left cheek. I can't help but close my eyes and rest my face in his cool embrace. There are no goose bumps or shivering of the spine this time. Instead I feel my body heats throughout and I long to feel his touch again and again. I fight the urge to move closer to him, instead opening my eyes to say goodbye. Confusion covers his face as he drops his hand to the side and mumbles something that could be construed as a goodbye before disappearing in front of me.

"Nice one Bella. Way to scare him off." I growl at myself before heading back to the house.

As expected Dad has already left with Nessie. What is unexpected is that almost five hours have passed since I walked out the back door. It is just before two in the afternoon and I am beginning to feel tired. My internal clock is starting to get out of wack with all this shifting of time zones. Maybe if I have a small nap now I will be refreshed when dad comes home. I change my clothes into something more comfortable, surprisingly it is one of mum's ensembles that has called to me. It is a long pale pink skirt with flicks of purple throughout and a dark pink fitted sweater. Nessie would be so proud of me wearing pink. I laugh to myself when I realise how easily I have slipped into calling her by dad's nickname for her. I don't think I have addressed her as Renesmee for days now though I have barley seen Nessie since we got here two days ago. Was it really only two days ago? It feels like an eternity since I left Mike behind in Tasmania, another world perhaps. And it is another world now. So much has changed in such a short time and most of it hasn't sunk into my overloaded mind but I feel at peace; almost. I feel a craving for something, a need to have something I desire. Is this what Edward was talking about? Could I become a guide too? This feels like a pull towards something that will make everything right but I have no idea what it is. As always when looking for answers on my own I find myself staring at the contents of the fridge.

"There you are. Find anything you like?" I spin around to find the source of the almost familiar voice and see Alec leaning in the doorway surveying me.

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**Da da dum dum. (just pucture that as threatening music) Thoughts? Let me know.**

**Review are so much better than picking on workmates about family realtions with sheep. Yep, that fact is true.**

**Thanks**

**Cuddles**


	19. Im sorry

I am truly sorry this is not the post some of you have been waiting for. I am just sending this post to let the few of you who have given me your support and encouragement that I have not stopped. I have written a few chapters after this one and quite a few after that and I have just discovered a sex scene I didn't remember writing!!! Go figure!

I am so sorry that life and everything else have gotten in the way of this story, but I am still writing. I have a bit of writers block where this chapter is involved as it ties in so much of what is to happen.

Please be patient with me and I will get back with an actual chapter before I am just a flash in your memory.

Again, I am sorry it is taking so long.

Cuddles


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